


Raise A Little Hell:   The Sequel

by Jennifer2018, orphan_account, Scripta



Series: Mary Grace and Jessica Winchester: Next Generation [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU without Mary Winchester or is it?, Canon-Typical Violence, Demons, Gen, Hunters, M/M, Sequel, The girls grow super fast bc of their grace, long fic, not mpreg, sabriel/destiel children, so they're in their 20s and Sam and Dean are in their mid-40s, winchester children!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:32:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9074149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennifer2018/pseuds/Jennifer2018, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scripta/pseuds/Scripta
Summary: In the realms of being, things are not well.When Castiel is thrown into the Cage and the angels plan an uprising, the Winchesters will undoubtedly be put in the crossfire. Now, only Mary-Grace Winchester and her cousin Jess can stop it. Together, the two Nephilim must venture into Hell to save Castiel - a place no angel or human has emerged from unscathed-- bring him home, and defeat the garrison of angels at their door. Are they up to the task? And if they succeed...At what cost?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! This is a story co-created and co-written by my friend, Jennifer2018. It kinda started as a couple of OCs and some fanart, and whoops -- a fic was born. I hope you enjoy it!! Bear in mind I probably won't update consistently, as I'm working on a few other things at the moment as well. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also credit to Gage for beta-ing this! Much appreciated <3

[ ](http://imgur.com/YEruLtW)

_Young blood, Heaven need a sinner,_  
_You can't raise Hell with a saint_.  
\- ‘Raise Hell’, Dorothy

 Castiel stood at the edge of the Pit, gazing down into the dark expanse. Bordering Earth to an entire separate dimension, it was more akin to standing halfway between reality and hellfire than, say, over a cliff. His brother, Samael, stood beside him, the fires of Hell reflecting in his steely eyes. Both angels were occupying their vessels, although they could have changed to their true forms easily. Castiel supposed they were both too attached to want to.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Samael murmured, gazing almost reverently at the Pit. Castiel cocked an eyebrow.

“You'd call such a thing beautiful?” Samael laughed softly.

“Brother, you fail to see it for what it is."

"And what would that be?"

The angel thought for a moment. "Pure," Samael finally said. "Fire, fury, and the brooding maliciousness of countless billions… it’s poetic.”

“Why did you bring me here, Samael?” Castiel asked bluntly. His brother blinked, raising his eyebrows a little. Then he relaxed and he gave Castiel a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I suppose there’s no point in further small talk. You have had an angelic child, Castiel. The garrison have all sensed it.” Castiel bit his lip, debating whether to deny it. He eventually nodded solemnly.

“You are correct, brother. However, I fail to see how it’s any of your concern.”

Samael looked indignant. “’How it’s any of my concern’?” he echoed incredulously.

“Castiel, the _Nephilim_ have always posed a threat. The raw power of an angel and the free will of a human were never meant to be combined. They are abhorrent. Abominations.”

Castiel felt anger bubble up in his throat. He took a step towards Samael, careful to avoid the edge of the Pit.

“Brother, I don’t want to quarrel with you,” he began slowly, “but Mary-Grace is my daughter and I do not appreciate the way you’re talking about her.”

Samael frowned. “You are attached to the child?”

“Of course.” Castiel’s brother considered this, contempt evident on his features.

“You… you fathered a _Nephilim_ , through means of angelic grace, with Dean Winchester. And you do not see it as an abomination?” Samael shook his head. “Brother, this is why you were cast from Heaven. You are becoming one of them.”

“One of what, Samael?” Castiel asked, a calm threat brimming on his voice. The smaller part of Castiel even noted the sudden emotion. He had never been quick to anger, but this did not stop Samael from continuing his tirade.

“Of the humans, of course. Those… brainless, war-mongering apes our father calls ‘perfection’? You have adopted their weaknesses, their ineptitude of grace, their... crude methods! You have even resorted to love with a man. Such a thing is..." Samael caught himself before saying anything that could sever the bond. "Lucifer had the right idea. We should have all opposed Father. He was wrong.”

“What you’re saying could get you cast out as well, Samael,” Castiel replied quietly.

“It’s the truth. Most of the garrison agrees with me, too. We all think you need to get back in line, or perish with the rest of them.”

Now it was Castiel’s turn to frown.

“Perish? The apocalypse has ended, Samael. It ended long ago. Lucifer is in the Cage, as is Michael. The Leviathans and The Darkness have been defeated. What are you saying?”

Samael shook his head sadly. “Oh, Castiel. There is so much more to come. The forces of Hell and Heaven are rising. You, your child, the Winchesters… you think you will be safe? We will unleash the true End. And you will be powerless to stop it.”

Castiel backed away, angel blade sliding out of his sleeve. He glared at Samael.

“So that’s what you brought me here for?” He demanded. “To smite me -- your brother! -- in cold blood?” Samael snorted.

“Smiting? Don’t be daft, Castiel. You are still my brother. I just need you… removed. Temporarily. Until our plans can slot into place. The garrison all agreed,” he added quickly, “It was a unanimous decision. I’m just the one who gets to do it.”

“Do what?” Castiel held up his angel blade in warning. Samael stepped closer regardless, looking genuinely sad for the first time since the beginning of their encounter.

“I am sorry, brother.”

Samael kicked out at Castiel’s legs, sweeping them out from underneath him. The angel cursed, stumbling, lashing out with his angel blade, but Samael side-stepped him and shoved Castiel’s shoulders, hard. He managed to keep hold of his angel blade as he toppled with a sound of protest into the Pit. His arms reached out in desperation for his brother, who simply looked over the edge with a grimace as he fell.

~ * * * ~

Samael watched his brother fall into the Pit, hands clasped firmly behind his back. There was a feeling of relief that he hadn't needed his angel blade. He waited a moment, as Castiel’s form disappeared into the glowing recesses of the Pit, before whistling softly. His brothers and sisters emerged from the darkness, a fluttering of wings signaling their arrival. They were all occupying vessels, male and female alike.

“Is he gone?” Liliel, one of the women, murmured. Samael nodded. His brother, Raziel, clapped his hands.

“It’s about time,” Raziel told her, rolling his eyes. Liliel pursed her lips.

“It isn’t right. Castiel doesn’t deserve the fate of Michael and Lucifer --” Samael waved a hand, cutting her off.

“How else are we going to carry out our plan, sister? Castiel was in the way. I simply removed an obstacle.”

“He is our brother,” another angel, Azrael, stated softly, going to stand next to Liliel, “and although he would have opposed our plan, I disagree with what his fate should have been.”

“What would you suppose I did?” Samael hissed through gritted teeth. “Kill him? Murder our brother in cold blood? I am not Lucifer. I want to preserve his life.”

“By condemning him to rot in Hell?” Liliel muttered, frowning.

“You did agree to this, sister,” Samael’s brother, Berechiel, pointed out. “We all did, did we not? That is why we’re here.” Samael shook his head angrily.

“Clearly not everyone is prepared for the repercussions of this. Either you are with me,” he gestured to himself, “or you are against me. If it is the latter, leave. I won’t stop you.”

Liliel murmured something in Enochian to Azrael. She then turned to Samael, grimacing.

“Brother, I love you. But neither Azrael nor I support this. I regret plotting against Castiel. I’m sorry.” She and her brother looked almost apologetic to the other angels, but the decision was made. They left in a flutter of wings. After a moment, another angel, Jophiel, bade his farewell and vanished after them. Samael sighed. Liliel, the angel of Night, had been one of the best in the garrison. He would be sad to lose her. He turned to the rest of the group.

“Brothers, sisters,” Samael began, spreading his arms wide, “those of you who have chosen to stay, I thank you for your support. We have lost three, but we are still strong enough to start the new apocalypse, on our terms. No more absent Fathers giving empty orders. No more Lucifer or Michael quarreling like fledglings. Earth belongs to the angels now. All we need to do now is destroy the Winchesters and the Nephilim children. Then victory will be ours.” The angels cheered.

Samael took a deep breath. “Alright. Berechiel, Seraphiel, Raziel. You are with me. We will find the Nephilim and dispose of them. Ariel, Deniel and Ifriam, you will seek out the Winchesters when I give the order. Am I clear?” He was met with nods all around.

“Good. We will meet here again tomorrow. I will give you your orders then. For now, all you must do is find our targets. Good luck.” His lips curled. "And Godspeed." The angels nodded again and disappeared one by one, leaving Samael alone with Raziel. He turned to his fellow angel.

“Am I doing the right thing, brother? Was condemning Castiel to Hell a righteous choice?”

Raziel shrugged. “It was not pleasant, but it had to be done. Without their angel, the Winchesters are powerless. Gabriel is dead. Michael and Lucifer are in the Cage. There is no one to oppose us, so it is futile bargaining whether to take the power for ourselves.”

Samael nodded reluctantly, missing the counsel of Liliel or Azrael. Raziel may have been the Keeper of Secrets, but he was headstrong and had an intense hate for the Winchesters, after they stopped the Apocalypse. Samael glanced down into the Pit again.

Privately, he hoped Castiel survived in one piece. For his sake, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated.


	2. Bunker Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchesters, Gabriel and the girls get an unwanted visit from two guilty angels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy the story and don't hesitate to leave kudos or a comment!! (i'm always a slut for kudos and comments)

Being stuck in the bunker with her irritable parents and equally irritable uncle was a pain in the ass. Jess Winchester could vouch for it, as that was her current position. At twenty-two, she’d seen her fathers angry or upset a number of times, but this was the most worried they’d been in years. Her papa, Sam, was pacing back and forth in the kitchen, trying to console Dean, to little effect. Mary-Grace, Jess’ cousin, sat on the counter top, a beer perched between her fingers, other hand toying with her dark blonde hair. It had been her third beer so far.

“Cas should be here by now,” Dean was insisting. “He should have been here three hours ago. He isn’t late… he’s never late.” Sam put a hand on his brother’s shoulder.  
“Dean, maybe he ran into something, but I’m sure he’s fine. He always is.”  
“But there’s always that ‘what if’, right, Sammy?” Dean snapped. “What if he’s dead? Or captured? Being tortured? What if he’s--”

“Dean,” Gabriel, Jess’ dad, interrupted, “Lucifer and Michael are in the Cage. The Leviathans, the Darkness, Abbadon, all of it… they’re _gone_. Dead or so far down in the Pit that they can’t bug us again. That’s a _fact_ , Dean-o. My brother is a tough guy. Whatever it is, it’s nothing he can’t handle.” Dean made a strangled noise and put his head in his hands. Mary-Grace gently put her arms around him, whispering words in his ear. This seemed to calm Dean down a little.

That is, until there was a knock on the bunker door.

None of the bunker’s residents actually heard it, but the alarms went off almost instantly. Mary-Grace jumped off the counter and pulled a knife from her belt, while Sam and Dean loaded their guns and Gabriel retrieved his angel blade. Jess, being the youngest, didn’t have her own ‘weapon’, per say; rather, she just grabbed whatever was left in the kitchen, which happened to be a flip-knife. She shoved it in her pocket without opening it, and jogged after her family members. 

Sam and Gabriel were in front, with Dean a few paces behind them, and Mary-Grace and Jess bringing up the rear. Gabriel closed his eyes for a moment, then frowned.  
“Angels. Two of them.”  
“I thought we ganked those sons of bitches,” Dean told him, lifting his gun a little. Gabriel snorted.

“There are thousands of angels in the garrison, Dean-o. There are bound to be at least five or six who didn’t die in the past twenty years or so.”  
Dean grunted. “Whatever. Can you go talk to them or something?” Gabriel nodded reluctantly.  
“I can try.”

“Can I come with you?” Jess asked, surprising both her uncle and dad. Sam and Gabriel simultaneously said “absolutely not” and “sure”, then glared pointedly at each other. Jess rolled her eyes.  
“I’m twenty-two, I can take care of myself, okay? Papa, I’ll be fine.” Sam opened his mouth to argue, but Gabriel leaned up and whispered something in his ear. Sam sighed, nodding slowly.

“Alright. Be safe, okay?”  
“I will. Thanks, Papa!” Jess hurried over to Gabriel as the doors to the bunker opened and they slipped out. 

“What did you say to him?” Jess asked her dad as they stepped out. Gabriel snickered.  
“I told him if he let you go with me, I’d screw him tonight until he forgot his own name.”  
“Ew, dad!” Jess wrinkled her nose. “Too much information.” Gabriel laughed.  
“You did ask, kiddo.” Jess snorted but made no further comment. 

The angels were standing a few feet away. There were two of them, like Gabriel had said-- one male, and one female. The female had black hair pulled into a bun, and a blouse and black pencil skirt with burn holes in the fabric. She stood around half a head shorter than the man, who was dressed similarly in a grey suit and matching tie. His dark hair was singed at the edges and his eyes were sunken.

Gabriel spread his arms wide. “Liliel and Azrael! My baby siblings! What can I do for you?” Liliel and Azrael’s eyes went wide.  
“G.. Gabriel?” The female, who must have been Liliel, spluttered. “You’re alive. Michael, he said you--”  
“Were dead, yeah. I’m full of surprises, Lili. Seems like you and your brother are, too. How’d you find this place, anyway?”

“We asked a few hunters in the area,” Azrael, the man, said quietly. “We’re here to warn you about the rest of the garrison.” Gabriel cocked an eyebrow. Jess stepped forward while her dad mulled it over.  
“What do you mean, ‘the rest of the garrison’?” Jess asked, hand brushing over the flip-knife in her pocket. “How many of you are left?”

Liliel’s eyes fixed on Jess, and the angel put a hand to her mouth. “One of the _Nephilim_ ,” she murmured, grabbing at Azrael’s arm. At the same time, Jess felt Gabriel put an arm around her protectively. She swallowed.  
“Yes. I’m half-angel. You still haven’t answered my question.” Liliel seemed to collect herself, and cleared her throat.

“There are around a hundred of us left. Most are wandering the Earth as the Fallen, or are trying to restore Heaven. Azrael and I are among the latter. There are others who came to Earth with us, however. They want to start another apocalypse, on their terms. They plan to kill all of you and destroy the Earth, claiming it for Heaven.”  
“What have they done with Castiel?” Jess demanded. Liliel took a sharp breath.

“Samael. He’s the leader. He cast him into Hell. Because of the power Lucifer’s Cage has on angels, it’s likely Castiel has ended up there.” Jess felt a lump form in her throat. She curled her hands into fists.  
“Why?” Liliel bit her lip.

“Once he’s out of the way, the Winchesters are powerless. Samael planned to kill you and Mary-Grace Winchester, then smite Sam and Dean. Azrael and I left his group. We wanted no part in Samael’s plan.” Before Jess could speak again, Gabriel spoke up.

“And how do we know you aren’t working with Samael in secret? You could be leading him right to us.”  
“I fear he may have become aware of our position already,” Azrael said gravely. Jess felt the blood drain from her face. Although Sam and Dean had assured her time and time again that the bunker couldn’t be breached, could it withstand the attack of God-knows-how-many angels?

“--need to get back inside,” Gabriel was saying. As he grabbed Jess’ hands, there were several flutters of wings, and a group of four angels appeared behind Liliel and Azrael. The angel at the front of the group sneered at the two angels before them.  
“You’ve betrayed the garrison, brother and sister,” he snarled. Liliel backed away, closer to Gabriel and Jess. Azrael remained where he was, calm and collected.

“We have done nothing of the sort, Samael,” Azrael replied, angel blade sliding from his sleeve. “You allowed us to leave. You said nothing about warning the Winchesters of what is to come.” Samael made a noise halfway between a laugh and a snort.  
“Excuses, excuses, brother. Remember what I said about killing other angels? I’ll make an exception for you and your sister.”

Azrael held eye contact with Samael, while Gabriel tried to edge himself and Jess back to the bunker doors.  
“We don’t have to fight, Samael. You can leave and nothing will be said of this. Please-- I don’t want to kill you.” Samael shook his head savagely.  
“You’re in my way, brother,” he said. “Step aside or perish.” Azrael remained where he stood. Liliel whimpered softly.

“Azrael, please,” she whispered, “come here. We can leave. We don’t have to--”  
“No,” Azrael interrupted sharply, making his sister jump. “This is wrong. The apocalypse came and went. We do not need another.” Samael stepped up close to Azrael, closer and closer, until they were practically nose-to-nose.  
“Step. Aside,” Samael said, tone warning. Azrael shook his head defiantly. 

“Very well.” Samael brought his arm forward suddenly, and Jess saw a blade protruding from Azrael’s back. There was a flash of white light, and Liliel screamed, diving forward and catching Azrael in her arms. The angel stared blankly at the sky, body limp, lifeless. Jess gasped, hand flying to her mouth in shock. She felt Gabriel’s grip on her arm tighten.

Liliel cradled her brother’s head in her arms for a moment, then let it drop to the ground. She stood up, lips curling back into a snarl. An angel blade materialized in her hand.  
“You _bastard_ ,” she spat, lunging at Samael. He brought his blade up to meet hers, and there was another flash of light as the weapons collided. As Samael parried Liliel’s attacks, he barked instructions at his followers. 

“Raziel, Berechiel, Seraphiel-- dispose of the _Nephilim_ and Gabriel. I will take care of--” he was cut off as Liliel kicked him in the chest. Samael went down with a grunt.  
The three male angels appeared in front of Jess and Gabriel faster than Jess could blink. She let out a little shriek and ducked instinctively, grateful for her angelic reflexes, as an angel blade flew over her head. Gabriel already has his weapon out and was against the two other angels.

Jess ducked again as the blade came her way, but her sleeve was caught on the sharp edge, the momentum spinning her around so she was directly in front of her opponent. The angel attacking her grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and lifted her up, kicking and cursing. Jess managed to kick him in the jaw, but it had little effect.

“Goodbye, little _Nephilim_ ,” the angel sneered, swinging the blade up at Jess’s chest. She twisted out of the way as well as she was able to, the blade lodging into her shoulder instead. She cried out in pain, jerking away. The angel, caught off-guard, released her shirt and she hit the ground on her bad shoulder. The angel blade rolled away, coming to a stop an arm’s breadth from her. 

Jess gritted her teeth and dragged herself towards the blade, hand closing around the cool surface of the weapon. She rolled over and slashed at her opponent with the blade, catching him in the thigh. He grunted sharply in pain, going down to one knee. Jess kicked him backwards and jumped onto his abdomen, plunging the angel blade into his heart. 

The flash of light that came from his eyes was blinding, and Jess was thrown backwards from the force of the blast, her skin burning and her vision spotty. She landed on the ground a few feet away, clothes smoking, temporarily disoriented. She felt someone lift her to her feet and drag her along, shouts of “C’mon!” and “open the doors!” in the distance. Her vision was slowly returning, and Jess saw Gabriel and Liliel beside her, cut and bruised but still intact. Gabriel pounded on the bunker door, which was swiftly opened, and dragged himself and Jess inside, Liliel on their heels. The bunker door slammed shut.

Gabriel laid Jess on the floor, while Sam knelt beside her and lifted her into a sitting position to assess her injuries. Jess looked up at Liliel, who was explaining to Dean and Mary-Grace what had happened.  
“--are you hurt?” Sam was asking. Jess blinked owlishly in the light of the bunker foyer. Gabriel helped get her shirt off, assessing the injuries Samael’s angel had dealt.

“Stab wound to the shoulder. It hit a bit of muscle, but it’s not too deep. I’m more concerned about the burns,” Gabriel said, running his hand over the stab wound, closing it with his grace. Jess hissed a curse as he put pressure on her skin. Sam bit his lip and turned his daughter to one side, inspecting the burn marks over her shoulders and collarbones.  
“She must have been caught in the blast, when she killed Berechiel,” Gabriel muttered.  
“That’s why they look like feathers. I can heal them, but they’ll leave scars.”

Sam pulled Jess close as Gabriel got to healing her burns. He rested his chin on her head and sighed. Jess felt tears fall damp against her hair.  
“It’s gonna be okay,” Sam murmured. Jess guessed it was more to himself than to her. She let him hold her until Gabriel finished healing, then gently pushed him away and looked down at herself.

Across her collarbones and shoulder blades was the imprint of the edge of an angel wing, the feathers in incredible detail. When she touched it, it stung. Jess thanked her dad for healing it, then shakily stood. Mary-Grace caught her as she stumbled and nearly fell on her face.

“You need rest,” Sam told Jess, his voice returning to protective-father mode. “Mary-Grace, get Jess to her room. You should get some sleep as well. Everyone else, we meet in the main war room in five minutes.” Mary-Grace pouted.  
“I want to help--” she trailed off when Dean shot her a look. Grumbling something about over-protective fathers, Mary-Grace looped her arm around Jess’ and hauled her down the hall to their rooms. Somewhere along the way, Jess fell asleep. 

~ * * * ~

When Jess woke up, the top half of her body hurt like hell. Groaning, she rolled out of bed and checked the time: 11:14 AM. Groaning again, this time with exasperation, Jess grabbed a clean tank top off her floor and pulled it on. She fished the flip-knife out of her old, blood-stained jacket from the day before, and tucked it into the pocket of her jeans. The angel blade she’d used to kill Berechiel was on her nightstand. After a slight pause, Jess grabbed it as well, sliding into her belt. 

She opened the door to her room, wandering down the hallway and into the kitchen. She guessed neither of her fathers, nor Dean or Liliel, had gotten any sleep the night before, and were still in the war room. It was likely they were still deciding on what to do next.  
Jess grabbed a handful of energy bars and a pot of instant coffee from the kitchen, then made her way back down the hallway of the bunker to the war room.

As expected, Sam, Gabriel, Dean, Liliel and Mary-Grace were arguing heatedly. They all paused as Jess entered the room, and Sam and Gabriel hurried over to envelop their daughter in a tight hug. Jess grinned and hugged them back, passing out the energy bars and placing the coffee pot on the table. The contents of the pot was gone almost instantly.  
“So,” Jess said, voice sounding worryingly exhausted, “What are we going to do?”

“Samael has amassed his forces outside the bunker,” Liliel explained as everyone else made short work of the energy bars and coffee. “He has made it clear that he intends to wait us out.”  
“A siege,” Mary-Grace confirmed between bites of energy bar. Jess nodded for Liliel to continue, taking a seat at the table in the centre of the war room.

“We’ve come to the conclusion that we have three choices: wait them out, meet Samael for a battle outside the bunker, or attempt to escape the bunker temporarily, through angelic means.” Jess grabbed the last energy bar and took a bite out of it, chewing slowly as she considered the options.  
“Looks like the most logical is to escape and come back, right? We’re all shielded from the angels,” Jess tapped her ribs as she spoke, “and we all have the resources and the weapons to do it. It’s the _escaping_ that’s the problem, though.”

“That’s where we’re stuck, kiddo,” Gabriel said, snapping his fingers. A waffle appeared in his hand and he shoved the whole thing in his mouth in one swift motion.  
“There’s a spell that’ll get us out of here without having the break any traps or use the front door. It’s a metaphorical back door, you could say.”  
“But it’s a tough spell?” Jess guessed. Her dad nodded. 

“Real tough. Liliel and I will have to use our graces to open a portal to the outside. If everything goes well, we should get dumped a few miles out from Lebanon. If not...” Gabriel shrugged. “Well, we’ll probably end up a big giant blob, floating through space.”  
“Perfect,” Sam muttered.  
Dean cleared his throat. “I say we vote on it. All against of sending our asses through time and space to get the hell outta dodge?” Sam raised his hand.

“All in favor?” The rest of the room raised their hands. Dean clapped Sam on the back.  
“Sorry, Sammy. Majority wins.” He turned to Liliel. “How do we do this spell?”  
Liliel thought for a moment, her pale blue eyes narrowing. “It’s in Enochian. Here, I’ll write it down.” She grabbed a nearby notepad and tore out a page, scrawling the Enochian down as fast as she could. Jess recognized a little, but not enough to understand the whole text. She could see Mary-Grace trying to decipher the language as well. 

Gabriel grabbed the page and looked over it, muttering to himself. After a few moments, he glanced up and nodded.  
“Sounds good to me. If we’re gonna go, we should pack our things.” Dean nodded in agreement. 

“Alright, everyone. Bring all the weapons you can carry without looking like a walking time bomb, and Sam-- grab the fake I.D.’s, credit cards, the works. We meet back here in half an hour.” The group immediately cleared out of the war room, heading to their rooms to collect their things. Jess opened the door to her bedroom and threw open her chest of drawers, swiping a backpack off the floor and shoving random clothes into it. She pulled on an over-shirt, and threw a light jacket on top of it. 

When her bag was packed, Jess slung it over her shoulder and pulled her brown hair back into a small bun. She double-checked her knife and angel blade were strapped to her side, then grabbed her stash of fake I.D.’s from the nightstand. Jess paused, grimacing as her shoulders rubbed against the fabric of her shirt. Although the burns were just scars now, they gave her phantom pain, as if she hadn’t had time to experience the full effect of the wounds.

Shrugging the uncomfortable feeling off, Jess closed the door to her room, praying silently that she would return soon. 

~ * * * ~

Once everyone had returned to the war room, Gabriel and Liliel set about beginning the spell, muttering in Enochian. Their eyes began to glow, and the rest of the room’s inhabitants took a hasty step back as the two angels thrust their hands forward. A soft glow filled the room, and reality seemed to warp and shift until there was a pale yellow swirling mess before them. It was about the size and width of a door. 

“We’ve done the spell so whoever goes in will end up at the nearest town outside Lebanon,” Gabriel panted, wiping sweat from his forehead. “The portal will close when the last person goes through, or Liliel and I reverse the spell.” He sat down in a chair, hard, breathing shallowly. Liliel looked equally exhausted. Mary-Grace nodded.  
“Jess and I should go through first.” She was met with shocked silence. Then all hell broke lose.

“No freakin’ way!” Dean shouted, taking a step towards her. At the same time, Sam and Gabriel shook their heads savagely, and Liliel made a noise of disapproval. Mary-Grace rolled her eyes. 

“It makes sense. If uncle Gabe or Liliel go first, Samael will sense it. If Papa or uncle Sam go, they’ll be easily recognized. It’s the most logical. Right, Jess?” Mary-Grace stared at her cousin with desperation. Jess nodded reluctantly, although she wasn’t too keen on testing out this homemade angel mojo portal. 

Dean was making the face he did when he knew he’d lost, but didn’t want to admit it. He sighed loudly.  
“Fine. As much as I hate to say it, you do have a point. But,” he added, glaring at Gabriel and Liliel, “if so much as a hair on your head is missing when I get through, I’m gonna pull out the holy oil and deep-fry me some angels.” Gabriel gulped.

Mary-Grace took Jess’ hand, studying her closely. “Jess, are you sure you want to do this? You don’t have to come just because I said so.” Jess nodded slowly.  
“I want to do this. If there’s a chance to get out of here and find uncle Cas, I’ll take it.”  
Mary-Grace grinned her father’s grin, green eyes glinting. “Awesome. Let’s go.” Pulling Jess’ hand, Mary-Grace and her cousin stepped through the portal and into the unknown.

Th portal was both hot and cold at the same time-- voices and sounds Jess couldn’t process swirled around her for what seemed like a century, although she guessed it was probably no more than a few seconds. Jess was too afraid to open her eyes, so she shut them tightly until she could feel grass under her feet and warm sunlight on her face. Opening her eyes, Jess loosened her death grip on her cousin’s hand and looked around. 

They stood side-by-side in a large green field-- probably some farmer’s land. To the east, a small town stood out on the horizon. A road lay to the girls’ left. It looked to be about mid-afternoon-- the same time they’d left the bunker. Jess opened her mouth to shout to Mary-Grace, but the words died on her tongue when she noticed the distinct absence of the portal. She glanced at her cousin, confusion painting her features.

“Mary…? What the hell is going on?” Mary-Grace shrugged helplessly, digging her phone out of her pocket and speed-dialing what could only have been Dean. Jess walked over so she could hear what was transpiring on the line.  
“ _Yeah, the portal vanished for us, too_ ,” Dean was saying. Mary-Grace frowned.  
“You mean we’re stuck here?”

“ _Looks like it. I’m gonna kill those two goddamn angels--_ ”  
“Dean,” Jess grabbed the phone and spoke into it quickly, calmly.  
“Dean, don’t panic, okay? We can make it on our own. Once dad and Liliel recharge their grace, they can get you here.” There was a short silence on the line, then Dean cursed.  
“ _Freakin’ featherbrains say they’re not gonna be able to for at least a week_.”

 _Damn it_. “Then we can hang tight until then. We’ll be okay, Dean. I promise.”  
There was a sigh on the other end of the line.  
“ _...Okay. You find Cas, you bring him home. Be safe. I love you both_.”  
“We love you too,” Jess told him, then hung up. She handed the phone back to Mary-Grace.  
“Looks like we’re on our own for at least a week.” Her cousin nodded.

“I gathered that. We need a plan to get Cas out.”  
“Out from where?”  
“From Hell. _Duh_.” Jess’ face paled.  
“We’re going to _Hell_?”  
“It’s inevitable, but yeah.”

Jess groaned. “Your humor isn’t appreciated, Mary. And just _how_ do you propose we do that?”  
Mary-Grace rubbed her hands together, getting the look in her eye that Jess knew spelled trouble.

“Time to find a crossroads.”


	3. Devil's Gate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their separation from Sam, Dean and Gabriel, the girls are left on their own. First, they need to find Castiel, but for that, they need to get to Hell. And the only way to do that is to summon a demon.

Castiel opened his eyes.

He sat up, groaning from the effort. He could feel bruises littering his skin, but upon inspecting his vessel, nothing else was too badly damaged. He shakily stood, surveying his surroundings. It was dark, but not pitch black, and Castiel’s angel blade glowed softly in his hand, providing a small amount of comfort. 

It took him a moment to register where he was. _Hell_ , of all places. Castiel swallowed the lump forming in his throat, and took a step into the nothingness, his angel blade acting as a makeshift light as he made his way forward. Although Castiel had been in Hell once before, to rescue Dean Winchester, he didn’t remember it being this quiet, this dark. His senses were going haywire-- something was wrong, _off_. 

When he’d found Dean, it was amongst masses of hellfire and screams. Demons and tortured souls alike shared space together. Blood pooled on the floors, cries of pain mingled with laughter. Here, it was silent as the grave. Castiel guessed he was somewhere deeper, farther than the torture chambers and the trigger-happy demons. He stopped abruptly, not wanting to move any farther until he’d figured out his position.

Replaying the events of what he assumed were the last few hours in his mind, Castiel recalled Samael casting him into the Pit. He remembered falling, falling for what seemed like millennia, images and figures rushing past him too fast for Castiel to process. And then he landed, on a flat surface in the darkness. Castiel frowned, wondering if perhaps he had lost his mind during his descent. No-- no, he didn’t think so. 

The angel felt something brush against his arm, and he whirled around, angel blade cutting through the air. It met nothing. Castiel felt sweat bead on his forehead.  
“Show yourself!” He barked, brandishing his weapon in front of him. There was a moment where the darkness seemed to be holding its breath. Then, a bout of laughter, coming from Castiel’s left side this time. A figure emerged from the nothingness-- no, two figures. Castiel took a step back, face going pale as he recognized them. 

“Hello, little brother,” Lucifer said, wings extending towards Castiel like the Darkness herself. 

“Welcome home.”

~ * * * ~

Mary-Grace and Jess had checked into a Bed and Breakfast in the town of Smith Center-- an eighteen minutes’ drive from Lebanon. Their next job was to find a crossroads, and a crossroads demon who was willing to help two Winchesters. Jess had made it clear several times that it was “statistically impossible”, before getting back to her copy of _The Exorcist_ , but Mary-Grace had higher hopes. _Always the optimist_ , she supposed. 

Because Jess had little to no faith in her cousin’s plan, Mary-Grace left her at the BnB to read, while she went out to find the nearest crossroads and collect all the items needed to summon a demon. She managed to get everything within the day: a photograph of herself, a handful of graveyard dirt, the bone of a black cat, and a bouquet of yarrow. As Mary-Grace placed all the items in an old Chinese take-out box, Jess looked over the top of her book and muttered, “It’s not going to _work_ , Mary.”

"It worked for our parents didn't it?" Jess didn’t respond, rolling her eyes.  
“You can come along if you don’t believe me,” Mary-Grace told her, putting the take-out box into her backpack. Jess snorted.  
“No, thanks. I’m gonna stay here and do some research on this ‘Samael’ guy. Good luck.”  
“ _Fine_ ,” Mary-Grace grumbled. 

Jess glanced up at her cousin, at the way she rolled her shoulders. Mary-Grace had that look she saw Dean get when he was upset. However, Jess knew her older cousin could handle this on her own. She watched Mary-Grace shoulder her backpack and head out of the hotel room, before calling up reception to ask for the wifi password so she could begin her research. 

Mary-Grace stopped at a local convenience store to buy a shovel and some potato chips, then hitchhiked to a small field outside Smith Center, next to a dirt road crossroads. She glanced at the sky; it looked to be about six o’clock in the evening. The rush hour had ended, and only the occasional car appeared on the horizon. Mary-Grace walked to the centre of the road, digging a small hole in the dirt and placing the take-out box inside. She covered the hole with more dirt, then sat on the grass beside the road and waited, like Dean had taught her. 

Her stomach twisted. She missed him already, and she missed Cas. She's never hunted on her own before, and although she was glad Jess was with her, she felt uncertain and nervous without her parents. To be honest with herself, Mary-Grace was scared-- hell, she was terrified. But she had to keep going, for Jess if not for herself. Her baby cousin was only twenty-two-- barely out of high school. Mary-Grace couldn’t afford to be scared. 

“Well, this is certainly a surprise.”  
The half-angel jumped, and turned around. A young man, maybe a couple years older than her, was standing a few feet away. He had brown skin and jet black hair, and was dressed in a close-fitting suit. His grinned at her, his eyes flickering red. When Mary-Grace focused, she could see the vague outline of the demon’s true form, but she didn’t concentrate too hard; seeing true forms was more of a curse than a gift.

She sucked in a breath.  
“I didn’t summon you to make a deal.” The man raised a delicate eyebrow.  
“Then why am I still here, sweetheart?”

Mary-Grace smiled, hiding her nerves with overconfidence.  
“I think you’re going to like my offer.”

The crossroads demon laughed.  
“Is that so, princess? Do elaborate.” Mary-Grace shrugged.  
“My cousin and I need you to take us to the nearest Devil’s Gate.” The demon’s eyes widened.  
“I don’t see how this is an offer. It looks like a couple of silly girls messing with things they should’t--”

“Here’s the best part,” Mary-Grace interrupted, praying he’d take the bait, “we’re Winchesters. You get to do the honor of sending two Winchesters to Hell, free of charge. No demon deals or anything.” The demon stood in shocked silence for a moment, then let out a low chuckle.  
“Winchesters? Let’s see…” He stepped closer to Mary-Grace, lifting a strand of her hair and staring at her eyes. He laughed again. 

“Damn. You’re right. I’d recognize those eyes anywhere. Alright, you’ve got me hooked. Is there any particular reason why you want to get chucked into the Pit, or just for the funnies?”  
Mary-Grace bit her lip. The demon stepped closer and murmured in her ear, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t bite. Only if you ask.” He drew back with a wink.

“Gross.” Mary-Grace took a step back from him and wrinkled her nose. “My father is stuck in the Cage. You just need to get us in. We’ll find our own way out. Your superiors will be impressed that you singlehandedly condemned Sam and Dean Winchester's children to Hell, and maybe they’ll even throw in a promotion.” The demon’s eye twitched at the word ‘promotion’, and he licked his lips. Mary-Grace continued.

“Plus, we won’t gank you. You’ll be free to go. What do you say?”  
“Hmm.” The crossroads demon scratched his chin. “An interesting, and very tempting offer. I accept.”  
“Really?” Mary-Grace asked incredulously. She didn’t think it would be that easy.  
As if reading her mind, the crossroads demon shrugged.  
“I know, it seems too easy. But this looks interesting, and I haven’t gotten a client in weeks. Any chance to be noticed by the higher-ups is a good chance.”

Mary-Grace nodded quickly. “Good. Come with me.” She began walking along the dirt road towards the highway, hailing a passing car as she did so. The car slowed and stopped, and Mary-Grace paused to negotiate her destination with the driver. She motioned to the demon.  
“Well? You coming?” He bit his lip, then got into the back seat of the car, looking out of place in his tailored suit and slicked back hair. 

As they rode towards Smith Center, the demon nudged Mary-Grace with his elbow.  
“I’m Dante, by the way. And you are…?”  
“Mary-Grace.”  
“Nice to meet you, Mary-Grace. You said you have a cousin waiting for us?” Mary-Grace nodded reluctantly.  
“Jess, yeah.”

The car had pulled to a stop outside the hotel. Mary-Grace thanked the driver, and she and Dante got out of the vehicle, heading inside the hotel and taking the elevator up to her rooms. 

When they got inside, Jess was sitting in front of the television, watching an episode of what looked like _Criminal Minds_.  
“About time,” she said without turning around. “I was beginning to worry--” Jess paused, then turned her head, blinking.  
“You brought a _demon_?” Dante gave his signature grin and nodded.

“That’s right, gorgeous. Did you use your angel mojo or whatever to sense me?”  
Jess looked faintly disgusted. “Yeah, I suppose.” She turned to her cousin.  
“ _This_ guy is going to help us find a Devil’s Gate,” she said flatly. It wasn’t a question.  
Dante put a hand to his chest in mock indignation. “Excuse you, princess. I’m a highly qualified crossroads demon. Among other things,” he added with a smirk.

Jess made a face. “Do you always flirt with your clients?”  
“Just the hot ones.” Jess turned several shades of pink and looked away quickly, suddenly becoming very interested in her book.  
“I’m Dante,” Dante told her, although it fell on deaf ears. 

Mary-Grace took a seat on one of the beds and fished a map of the United States out of her bag. Unfolding it, she placed it on the bed and motioned for Dante to come over. After one last glance at Jess, he complied, crouching next to the bed and inspecting the map.  
“We know one of the Gates is here, in Calvary Cemetery, Wyoming,” the older Winchester pointed to the spot she’d marked on the map, “but there has to be more, otherwise we wouldn’t have so many demons hanging around topside.”

Dante thought for a moment, then pointed to a spot near Kansas City. “There. Stull Cemetery. That’s the one I got out of.”  
“It’s nicknamed the Gates to Hell,” Jess called from the couch. “The church there was reduced to rubble, and on a Good Friday, too. There’s a rumour,” she said, checking her phone, “that if you knock on a rock in the rubble pile, the Devil himself will rise up and answer. Also, I believe our dads fought Lucifer and Michael there, back in 2010.”

Mary-Grace whistled. “Damn. If that’s not spelling out ‘Devil’s Gate’, I don’t know what is. How far is it from here, Jess?”  
There was a pause. “A little over three-and-a-half hours by car. We can take the Greyhound there, instead of hitching.” The older Winchester nodded.  
“Sounds good. Dante, you’re coming with us. We’ll need you to help open the gate.” Dante grunted an affirmative.

“We might as well get out of here now,” Jess told them. “Samael will be looking for us, and we need to stay as far ahead of him as possible.”  
“I agree.” Mary grabbed her bag and shoved everything she’d unpacked back into it.  
“Jess, get your things together. We leave in ten minutes.”  
“What about me?” Dante whined, picking at his suit. Mary-Grace gave him a look.

“Just stand there and look pretty.” The crossroads demon smiled broadly.  
“I can do that.”

~ * * * ~

The bus ride was equal parts boring and irritating-- Dante continued his efforts to flirt with Jess, Jess ignored him and read her book or listened to music on her phone, and Mary-Grace had to stop Jess from punching the demon more than once. At one point, she pulled out her angel blade, grabbed Dante’s tie, pulled him forward and hissed in his ear,  
“If you wink at my cousin one more time, I will make the driver stop this goddamn bus and shove this blade so far up your ass you’ll taste angelic grace for a week.”

Dante shut up after that.

Mary-Grace grimaced at herself, imagining what her father must think of her now-- working with a crossroads demon and throwing herself and her cousin into _Hell_ of all places, to save her father. With a snort of laughter, she realized it wouldn’t be that out of place for Dean to do the exact same thing. She pulled her cellphone out of her jeans pocket and dialed her father’s number. The line rang once, twice, three times. 

“ _Dean Winchester here_.”  
“Papa, it’s me,” Mary-Grace said quickly. There was a small sigh of relief on the other end of the phone.  
“ _Oh, thank God. Are you and Jess okay? Is something wrong_?”  
“No, no, we’re fine. We’re going to a cemetery near Kansas City. We think it might help us find Dad.” Dean paused.

“ _Stull Cemetery? The one we opened the Cage at_?”  
“Uhm… yes?” It didn’t take Dean long to put the pieces together.  
“ _No freakin’ way. You are_ not _going to open a Devil’s Gate_.” In the background, Mary-Grace heard her uncle Sam shout, “they’re going to open a _what_?”  
“Papa, we have to,” Mary-Grace insisted, fingers clenching around the phone in her hand. “It’s the only way to save Dad.”

“ _Like hell it is. We’ll find another way. We can make a deal--_ ”  
“And how are you supposed to do that? You’re trapped in the bunker-- Samael and his angel friends are still outside, trying to starve you out. And you won’t let Jess or I make a demon deal,” the half-angel countered. There was silence on the other line. Mary-Grace sighed.  
“Look, Papa, it’s our only option. We have a crossroads demon helping us, his name is Dante--”  
“ _Oh, that makes me feel_ so _much better_ ,” Dean sneered.

“He’s gonna open the Gate for us. We get in, get Cas, get out. Simple.”  
“ _Sweetheart, I don’t think you realize what you’re up against_ ,” Dean said softly, voice tinged with pain. Mary-Grace bit her lip.  
“Papa, I do. I know. And I can do it. I want to make you proud.”  
“ _I’d rather have you_ alive _than be proud of you, Mary. You know that. Please, don’t do this_.”  
The half-angel blinked back tears as she whispered, “I’m sorry, Papa. I have to.”  
She hung up, turned off her phone, and slumped back into her seat.

“Mary? You okay?” Jess leaned over and put a hand on her cousin’s shoulder. The older Winchester nodded quickly, turning away.  
“I’m fine. I just need a moment.”  
“Was it uncle Dean?” Jess pressed, concern flashing across her face. “Did he not want you to--”  
“ _I said I need a moment_ ,” Mary-Grace snapped. Jess shut her mouth instantly, pulling her book out from her bag again.

Mary-Grace put her head in her hands, leaning against the window. Thankfully, Dante remained silent, shifting awkwardly in his seat and wringing his hands back and forth. Mary-Grace let out a tiny sob, wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. She felt terrible for not listening to Dean, but she had to get Cas back. She would do whatever it took to get her family back together again.

~ * * * ~

The Greyhound stopped in Lecompton, Kansas, which was the closest they could get to Stull Cemetery by bus. The two Winchesters and Dante decided unanimously to taxi the rest of the way, as they’d be less conspicuous that way. The taxi ride was awkward and painfully silent. Mary-Grace almost apologized to her cousin several times, but her pride and guilt stopped her. Instead, she concentrated on the road and made sure Dante kept his hands to himself.

The taxi driver refused to get any closer than three blocks from the cemetery. As Mary-Grace paid him, he muttered, “You three are crazy, going in there. I’ll be prayin’ for you tonight. You take care.”  
“Thanks,” Mary-Grace told him, closing the door and watching him drive off. She slung her bag over her back, and followed Jess and Dante to the cemetery gates.

“They’ve been locked for ages,” Jess was saying, “because teenagers and stuff would always be sneaking in to deface gravestones or try to summon ghosts or whatever. You have a lock pick?”  
Mary-Grace handed her cousin the bag of lock picks, and Jess made short work of the padlock, swinging the gate open. It was late-- 10:30 PM, to be exact-- but Mary-Grace reckoned there would be patrols to make sure no one snuck into the cemetery. She slipped through the gates last, closing the lock behind her. 

Where they were going, they didn’t need to leave.

Dante motioned for the girls to follow, interrupting Mary-Grace’s thoughts. The girls walked with him up the hill of the cemetery, until they reached a pile of rubble.  
“This was the church,” Dante explained, glancing at Jess. “The legend about knocking on the stones is partially true, actually. You have to do an incantation, and then move this stone,” he pointed to a large piece of rubble to their left, “and boom: you got yourself a Devil’s Gate.”

Jess stepped forward, tugging the piece of rubble back to reveal dirt. She frowned.  
“So the dirt, it what-- turns into the Gate?”  
“Pretty much.”  
Jess squared her jaw, looking more like Sam than Mary-Grace had ever seen.  
“How do we open the Gate?”  
Dante thought for a moment, his eyes shining in the moonlight of the cemetery.  
“Well, usually I can just open it myself with a little spell or two, but it takes a few hours. If you want to kickstart it, you could try using some blood and your graces.”

“Here.” Mary-Grace extended her arm, but Jess batted it away.  
“I’ll do it,” her cousin said, pulling out a flip-knife and slicing her palm open. Jess clenched her teeth and hissed a string of curses, then flung her arm out, letting the blood spatter against the piece of rubble. Jess knelt next to the rocks and closed her eyes, placing her bloodied hand against the rubble. Her eyes flashed white, a soft glow coming from her hand. 

Dante waited for Jess to stand up again before he began muttering in a language too fast for Mary-Grace to understand. There was a low rumbling, and the ground underneath the piece of rubble glowed white-hot. Dante grabbed one edge of the stone, while Mary-Grace grabbed the other, and together they moved the rubble to one side, revealing a swirling mass of fire and shadow where the ground had been. 

Mary-Grace swallowed, feeling sick. Angels weren’t supposed to go down here. All her senses were screaming at her not to get closer, but she forced herself to take a step forward. She felt a hand curl around her own and she glanced over at Jess, whose eyes were wide with fear. Her cousin’s gaze was fixed on the Gate. Dante cleared his throat.  
“I guess this is where I leave you.”  
“I guess so,” Mary-Grace muttered. Dante sighed, clapping the girls on their backs.

“I’ll give you a day’s head start before I warn the boss. It’s been fun.” He turned to Jess and blew her a kiss.  
“Feel free to summon me anytime, babe.” And with that, Dante disappeared in the blink of an eye. Jess squeezed her cousin’s hand.  
“Ready?” Mary-Grace nodded.  
“Ready.”

Together, both girls took a deep breath, and stepped into the Pit.


	4. Welcome to Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Winchesters grow low on supplies attempting to wait Samael and his garrison out, Mary-Grace and Jess begin their journey through Hell, desperate to find any sign of Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got some ideas from my lovely co-author, Jennifer for this one, as well as a couple of new characters courtesy of Amanda, one of our awesome fans! :^) Hope you enjoy it!!

Dean pushed himself up off the floor, then lowered himself down again in a pushup. Up and down. Up and down. He hadn’t said a word to Sam, Liliel or Gabriel since the girls left. He was afraid, so afraid for his baby girl and his niece-- even if they were old enough to look after themselves, like Sam had tried to reassure him.

Samael and his angels were still positioned outside the bunker-- unable to get in, but as a result, prevented the bunker’s residents from getting out. It had been nearly a week, with no word from the girls, and they were low on food. Of course, Gabriel and Liliel didn’t require it, but Sam and Dean were down to canned goods. The older Winchester didn’t know how much longer they could hold out. Sure, Gabriel could magic up food if he wanted, but he was still weak from the portal spell and wasn’t going to be using his grace any time soon.

Dean continued his pushups, feeling sweat collect on his back. What else could the man do, anyway? Both his husband and his daughter were gone, the former stuck in Hell with Satan and his pissy older brother. Dean sighed and stopped his pushups, standing and grabbing a beer from the nightstand.

Sam, on the other hand, had gone to the library to read. Gabriel had followed him, worried about his boyfriend, and both were sat across from each other, pouring through any books on angels they could find. Gabriel was nursing a lollipop-- he tended to do that when he was nervous. He leaned over the tabletop and placed his hand gently on Sam’s. The Winchester looked up and gave the archangel a tired, lopsided grin.

“They’re gonna be okay, Sam,” Gabe said softly, giving Sam’s hand a little squeeze. “Jess is a smart kid. Mary, too. They’ll find Cas and get back. I promise.” Sam nodded slowly and entwined his fingers with Gabriel’s.  
“C’mere.” Gabriel stood and went over to Sam’s side of the table. The Winchester pulled him into his lap, resting his chin on the top of Gabriel’s head.

“I’m scared, Gabe,” Sam murmured. Gabriel nodded.  
“And you’re allowed to be, Sam. But trust me when I say the girls are good kids. They’ll pull through.” Sam held Gabriel tighter. The archangel moved his head, lifting himself up to peck Sam on the lips. Sam smiled against the kiss, fingers combing through Gabriel’s hair.

They stayed like that for a long time.

~ * * * ~

The temperature of Hell was nothing like Jess had expected. Instead of the freezing cold or searing heat she’d been anticipating, all she felt was a pleasant breeze. _So all the human souls will feel comfortable as they get their skin peeled off_ , she thought, suppressing a nervous giggle.

As the girls got their bearings, they could hear muffled screams-- the screams of men, women and children’s souls being flayed alive, stabbed, burnt and all manner of things that happened in Hell. Jess took a shaky breath, taking in her surroundings.

They stood in the middle of a long corridor-- a lot like a hospital. Jess couldn’t see the end, but she wouldn’t be surprised if the hallway went on forever. Along both sides of the corridor were doors, spaced evenly apart, as far as they eye could see. They were numbered with a simple ‘1’, ‘2’, and so on. Jess tried one of the doors. It swung open, and a wave of heat hit her face. She heard a shriek from the other side and slammed the door shut again. Jess glanced at her cousin, and saw the older girl was white as a sheet.

"Mary,” Jess said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder, “we can do this, okay? We can do this together.” Mary Grace only nodded, and as they kept walking, the screams got louder. Jess desperately wanted to turn back, but it was far too late for that now.  
"We can save Dad, we can save him, we can save Dad..." Mary-Grace was whispering to herself. Jess grabbed her cousin’s hand and squeezed reassuringly.

Jess was aware that there was a very large chance they wouldn’t make it back. The thought made her sick to her stomach, and for a moment, she wondered whether it was worth it to go after her uncle. Maybe they could find Crowley, the guy her Papa always talked about, convince him to let them out--

No. They had a job to do. Jess couldn’t back out now. Besides, they had no friends here, no matter how optimistic her thoughts were. They were in the demons’ domain now, at their mercy (or lack thereof). But they would make it to Castiel, at least. If they found the angel, Jess could at least say she tried.

She shared none of this with her cousin as they walked, occasionally trying doors to see if they lead anywhere other than torture chambers or just literal hellfire. They had no such luck so far. Mary-Grace edged closer to her younger cousin, and when Jess shot her a quizzical look, she shrugged it off, saying that she was just “making sure her baby cousin stayed as safe as possible”. Jess rolled her eyes, but deep down, she wondered if Mary-Grace was as scared as she was.

It was by the time they reached the 274th door that Jess noticed the distinct lack of demons. At first, she’d assumed they they were either hanging around on Earth, or busy torturing souls, but after spending a good twenty minutes walking with no one spotting them, she began to grow suspicious. Jess voiced her concerns to Mary-Grace, who shrugged, equally perplexed.

“Maybe they’re aren’t as many demons as we thought?” She guessed weakly. Jess pursed her lips.  
“Maybe. The quicker we find uncle Cas, the better.”  
“I agree.” Both girls went silent again, continuing to open and close doors, looking for something, _anything_ that would lead them to Lucifer’s Cage.

Jess felt stupid for thinking finding her uncle would be that easy. Maybe they would have to get Crowley’s help after all.

“Are you girls lost?”  
Jess and Mary-Grace whirled around at the sound of the voice, angel blades pointed at the source. Two girls stood behind them, dressed casually in jeans and t-shirts. The taller of the two had dark blond hair tied up in a bun. The shorter had pale skin and what looked like a permanent grimace.

When Jess concentrated, she saw the taller girl’s body shimmer, changing to her true form-- a mass of wings and teeth and scraps of clothing draped over her body. A demon, and something that wasn’t quite human. Jess frowned.  
“Who the hell are you?” Mary-Grace demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. The shorter girl grinned.

“Funny you should ask. I’m Everly. That’s Emily. We’re just passing through.”  
“Passing through _Hell_?” Jess asked, raising an eyebrow. Emily shrugged.  
“Weather’s nice this time of year.”  
“I’m Jess,” Jess said tentatively, not moving closer to the girls, but relaxing her stance a little. “That’s Mary-Grace, my cousin.”

Emily and Everly shared a look that Jess didn’t like. They turned back to the Winchesters and smiled broadly.  
“Well, Mary-Grace and Jess,” Everly said, “Where are you heading? We can point you in the right direction.”  
Jess glanced over at her cousin, and Mary-Grace shook her head, her green eyes narrowing.

“We’re… trying to find a certain demon. His name...” Jess thought for a moment. “His name is Dante. He’s a crossroads demon?” Emily smiled.  
“We know where they like to hang out. Follow us.” She strode down the hallway, her figure shimmering in and out of her true form. Jess and Mary-Grace followed a few paces behind, keeping an eye on Everly behind them.

A few minutes later, Emily came to a stop outside a door marked 359. She opened the door and motioned for the Winchesters to step through.  
“Age before beauty.” Jess rolled her eyes. Mary-Grace snorted.  
“How do we know you aren’t trying to kill us? We don’t even know who you are,” the older Winchester said, tone suspicious. Everly made a face.

“Well, when you put it that way, you don’t. But you clearly weren’t making any progress, trying to find this Dante guy. We’re the only help you’ve got. Might as well accept it and deal with whatever’s through that door, right?”  
“C’mon,” Jess grabbed her cousin’s sleeve and dragged her through the doorway, against the older Winchester’s protests. Out of the corner of her eye, Jess saw Everly shut the door behind them, and they were bathed in darkness.

~ * * * ~

Everly glanced at Emily as the door closed, chewing her lip.  
“Do you think they fell for it?” She asked quietly. Emily shook her head.  
“Nah. But we did our part. The demons will take care of them.” Everly nodded slowly.  
“If you say so.”  
“I _know_ so. Now we can get out of this place.” Emily tilted her head to the ceiling and said loudly, “Okay, Lucifer! We did our part. The Winchester girls are where you want them. Now, let us go.”

There was silence, then a voice echoed down the hallway, curling around the girls and whispering in their ears.  
“ _All in good time_ ,” it said. “ _You have done well. When the Winchesters are in my possession, I will allow you to return to Earth. Until then, you must remain here_.” The voice faded away, and Everly cursed.  
“Wait-- _Lucifer_ \--” But the voice was already gone. Everly cursed again and kicked at the wall, sinking to the floor in defeat.

~ * * * ~

When their eyes adjusted, Jess realized they in another hallway, the walls dimly lit by torches. This hallway was less clinical-looking than the previous one-- the walls were made of some dark wood, and the floor was thickly carpeted. It looked like the hallway of a fancy manor house, which Jess supposed fit the Hell aesthetic more. She shifted her backpack with one hand, keeping a tight hold on her angel blade with the other.

Mary-Grace was glaring at her. Jess raised her eyebrows.  
“What?”  
“Don’t you _‘what’_ me,” her cousin said icily. “You just-- you _trusted_ those girls! Neither of them were human, we’re in _Hell_ for God’s sake, and you-- you--”  
“I didn’t _trust_ them,” Jess shot back. “How the hell were we supposed to get anywhere otherwise? What, were you gonna just open and shut doors until we find Lucifer’s Cage by _chance_?”

“It would be better than just going up to the first… first _thing_ you see like a damn lost puppy and asking for directions? We’re not in Kansas anymore, Jess! We’re in _Hell_!”  
“Don’t act like I don’t know that,” Jess snapped. “You’re always being so fucking _overprotective_ of me. I’m twenty-two. I can look after myself.”  
“I’m trying to make sure you don’t fucking _die_ before we save my dad!” Mary-Grace yelled, “So don’t get smart with me, Jessica.”

“Don’t fucking call me Jessica.”  
“Don’t fucking try to make me look stupid for trying to keep you safe.”  
“ _Fine_.” Jess turned and stalked down the hallway, looking for a door.  
“Fine.” Mary-Grace turned her nose up and leaned against the wall, flipping her cousin off.

Jess found a door a few feet down the hall, and wrenched it open. Finding nothing of consequence, she slammed it shut. She did the same with the next door, and the next.  
Eventually, after four or five doors, Jess had successfully taken out her frustration. She turned to Mary-Grace, opening her mouth to apologize, but found her cousin was gone. Jess swallowed the apprehension bubbling in her throat and jogged back to the spot where Mary-Grace had been.

“Mary?” She called, voice shaking a little. “Mary, did you go in one of the doors? Mary?”  
She received no answer. Jess let out a small noise of panic and ran to the closest door, flinging it open and stepping halfway in, yelling Mary-Grace’s name. When that did nothing, she skidded to a halt in front of the next door. It opened into darkness.  
“Mary! Answer me, dammit!”

Jess had opened and closed every door she’d checked before, and then some, before she sank to the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks.  
“Mary, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she choked out, putting her head in her hands.  
“Mary, I’m scared. I’m really scared,” she whispered. Jess held her backpack close to her chest, sobbing into it and apologizing to the air, screaming her cousin’s name until her voice was hoarse.

At some point she must have fallen asleep, because when she woke up, the lighting in the hallway had changed from dim to much, much brighter (but no less inviting). Jess yawned and stretched. It took her a moment to realize where she was and what had transpired before, but it hit her like a punch in the face. Jess sat bolt upright and wiped at her eyes, slowly getting to her feet.

Calmer than the day before (day? Night? Jess had no idea), Jess spent a few minutes organizing the contents of her backpack, while she formulated a plan. She grabbed a chocolate bar out of the front pocket of her bag and broke off a couple of pieces. So Mary-Grace was gone-- probably taken by demons. That meant that Jess was going to have to draw attention to herself, to get one of them to notice her. She grinned shakily. Hopefully this plan would actually work, and not just get her killed.

Closing her eyes, Jess drew on her angelic grace, feeling her body begin to glow. Normally, Mary-Grace was more in touch with her angelic half, whereas Jess preferred her human half, but Mary-Grace wasn’t here. Jess felt her wings materialize and expand in the hallway, the small space barely big enough to fit. As a _Nephilim_ , a half-angel, her wings weren’t large enough to actually fly with, but they looked pretty cool, and Jess often had fun whacking her cousin in the face with them as a kid.

If Jess looked into a mirror in that moment, she would have seen a girl with glowing white eyes, glowing palms, and large golden wings. She guessed she was emitting enough angelic grace to tip off every demon within a ten-mile radius. _Good_.  
Spreading her arms wide, Jess shouted, “Alright, you bastards! Here I am! Take me to Crowley or whatever!”

Receiving no response, Jess concentrated harder. The angel blade in her hand glowed white-hot, and her body started shaking from the sheer effort of controlling her power.  
“ _Come on_ ,” Jess gritted out, clenching her fists. She was breathing shallowly, her wings twitching with every breath. She couldn’t keep this up for much longer-- Mary-Grace was always better at controlling her grace.

Just as she was about to give up, figure appeared in front of her. Unable to see through the haze of white light, Jess folded in her wings and took deep breaths, letting her grace ebb away, until she was back to her normal, _human_ , self. The figure in front of her came into focus-- it was clearly a demon, for it had ragged wings protruding from its back and horns curling out of what appeared to be some kind of animal skull for a head. The skull had mismatched teeth sticking out at odd angles, and the eye sockets of the skull glowed red-- a crossroads demon.

“Well, princess, you didn’t have to yell,” the demon chuckled in an oddly familiar voice, “I could hear you all the way from Crowley’s office.”  
“...Dante?” Jess asked incredulously, tucking her angel blade into her belt and blowing a strand of hair from her eyes. “You look awful.” The crossroads demon made a tittering noise, the his teeth clattering together.  
“I don’t need a meat-suit down here. We all look awful, gorgeous.”

“Are you hear to take me to Crowley? Do you know where my cousin is?” Jess demanded, stepping forward and cocking and eyebrow at Dante. He nodded, splattering some kind of dark substance across the walls of the corridor as he did so. Jess didn’t want to think about what it was.  
“Yep. And your cousin is with him. Safe and sound. Mostly,” Dante added with an odd tilt of head his Jess assumed was a shrug. She glared.

“Just get me there. _Now_.” The crossroads demon snickered.  
“I love it when you get all commanding like that.”  
“Shut up and take me to Crowley.” Dante pouted.  
“Fine. Right this way.” He unfurled his wings, hovering a few feet above the ground, and drifted down the hall, with Jess in tow.

They arrived at the end of the hall, where a large, oak wood door stood. Jess frowned; last time she’d checked, the hallway had been endless, like the previous one. She shook her head, trying to not to get disoriented, and stepped inside while Dante held the door.  
“Welcome to crossroad demon headquarters,” Dante told Jess, spreading his arms proudly. And against her better judgement, Jess was impressed.

She was in what looked like a gigantic reception area, all whitewashed walls and glass. A huge chandelier that probably weighed more than a bus hung from the ceiling, and every piece of furniture was either white or gold. Demons and disembodied souls milled around, writing on rolls of parchment or ferrying souls back and forth.

Behind the reception desks, which were occupied by demons (in another context, seeing a seven-foot-tall demonic entity perched on a stool like a bank teller would have been hilarious, but Jess wasn’t in the mood), were a pair of huge metal elevators. Jess couldn’t help but let out a snort when she saw that the floors went up to Floor 666. Dante followed her gaze and laughed.

“Nice touch, isn’t it? The boss insisted it be the top floor. A lot of us disagreed-- really plays on that nasty demon stereotype, y’know?-- but of course, he did it anyway. To be honest, it’s a bit embarrassing when we bring new souls in. They always laugh at the bloody elevators.” Dante continued to babble as he and Jess stepped into one of the elevators with another demon. This one was taller than Dante, but looked pretty much the same, save for larger, more tattered wings that were folded against its back.

“You going to the top?” It asked in a distinctly feminine voice. Dante nodded, moving to one side so the other crossroads demon could fit. Jess ended up wedged in between two seven-foot demons-- and she suspected that wasn’t even their full size. She gulped, trying to appear inconspicuous. The demon that had joined her and Dante in the elevator looked down at her quizzically.  
“Is this the Winchester girl? The other one?” Dante nodded.

“Jess, this is Chell. Crowley’s right-hand woman, colleague of mine.”  
“Nice to meet you,” Jess muttered, hands tightening on the straps of her backpack.  
Dante and Chell began talking in a garbled language Jess couldn’t place, until the elevator _ding_ ed as they reached Floor 666. Chell stepped out first, followed by Jess, with Dante bringing up the rear.

They were in a large office, the design not unlike the hallway Jess had been stranded in. A long mahogany desk stood in the centre, surrounded by rolls of parchment and bottles of ink the color of spilled blood. Jess spotted her cousin almost instantly, sitting in a chair in front of the desk. She ran over and tackled Mary-Grace, pulling the older Winchester into a tight hug.  
“I’m so sorry I yelled at you,” Jess gasped, burying her face in her cousin’s shirt. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry...”

“Hey, it’s alright. You don’t need to apologize,” Mary-Grace whispered, “I’m okay, Jess. I’m okay. It’s okay. _Breathe_.” Jess took a moment to compose herself, then looked up at her cousin’s face. Mary-Grace looked haggard-- bags under her eyes, hollowed cheeks and skin white as a sheet. Thankfully, she didn’t appear to be injured-- Dante had been telling the truth.

“Did Crowley do anything to you?” Jess demanded, grabbing Mary-Grace’s shoulders.  
“Because if he did, I’m going to shove his damn desk up his ass.”  
“Good luck with that, darling.”  
Jess turned, and there was the man himself, currently occupying a meat-suit. He had receding dark hair and was dressed smartly in a black suit, shirt and tie. He nodded at Dante and Chell, who retreated to the corners of the room, standing guard.

“You must be Jess. Your cousin told me next to nothing about you, but I guessed as much. Welcome to Hell,” Crowley gave Jess a smile that unsettled her more than Dante’s true form. He motioned to the other chair in front of his desk.  
“Please, love, take a seat. We have _so_ much to discuss.”


	5. Chin Up, Winchester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley agrees to help the girls, but for a price. Nothing in Hell comes free, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter has a LOT of violence/gore, so if you're uncomfortable with that, see the notes at the end of the chapter for the summary of what happened, so you don't miss out :^)  
> Happy reading!!

Castiel paced along the wall of the Cage, muttering to himself. For the most part, his brothers had let him be, which surprised him at first. Then Castiel had realized a little while ago that the point of the Cage was to lose one’s mind, as opposed to getting tortured for eternity. He supposed the former was worse, in a way. If anyone came to rescue him (which Castiel doubted), they’d find a broken shell of himself instead of the angel they had expected. It was that realization that nearly brought Castiel to tears. 

He didn't need food or sleep, but in place of hunger or exhaustion, he felt his sanity ebbing away. There were moments when he forgot Dean’s name, or his daughter’s. Moments where he couldn’t remember what their faces looked like, what their voices sounded like. 

Castiel knew his brothers were watching him. As he sat against one of the Cage walls, head in his hands, he heard them speak.  
"Brother...how long do you think he'll survive down here?" Michael asked, not sounding particularly worried-- just curious. Lucifer shrugged.  
"Not much longer. We should intervene.”

"Are you saying we kill him?" Michael said slowly. Lucifer shook his head.  
“We can kill his vessel, but without an angel blade, killing him will be difficult.”  
"What else are we supposed to do?” Michael asked softly. “Let him rot in here long enough that he loses his sanity and tries to kill us? He is the one who possesses the angel blade.” Lucifer considered this.

“True. Well, if we can’t kill him, we might as well have some fun.” Lucifer approached Castiel with slow, calculated steps. The younger angel turned, brandishing his blade.  
"Don't come any closer to me,” Castiel growled. “I have an Angel blade and I will use it."  
Lucifer snorted, and, with a flick of his wrist, sent Castiel flying into the Cage wall, pinning him there. Castiel grunted in pain, struggling against his older brother’s power. 

Michael gave Lucifer a look. The fallen angel cocked his head.  
“What?”  
“Just...” Michael sighed. “Don’t _break_ him, brother.”

“I’ll do my best.”

~ * * * ~

Mary-Grace watched her cousin take a seat next to her, dropping her bag on the floor of Crowley’s office. Jess looked like she’d hadn’t slept in weeks, and she had a bad twitch in her left eye. Her hands were trembling. 

When Mary-Grace had been taken by Crowley’s henchmen, she hadn’t even had time to scream before she was whisked away to this place-- the office. She’d tried attacking the King of Hell, but the only thing she accomplished was getting thrown against the wall. Mary-Grace now had a line of bruises across her back and her wounded pride to show for it. 

She watched as Jess leaned forward, glaring at Crowley.  
"Let's get one thing straight,” the younger Winchester snapped, “if you even _think_ about tricking us, or killing us, I will stab you in the _face_. We need help finding my uncle and you are going to help us. Understand? I hope so, because I won't repeat myself." Mary-Grace’s mouth fell open.

"Jess. You _do_ realize who you're talking to, right?" she asked.  
"I’m aware." Luckily, Crowley didn’t seem too upset by her cousin’s cheek. He chuckled and held up his hands in mock surrender.  
"Ladies, ladies. Calm down. Don't get your antlers in a knot, Baby Moose-- and you, Baby Squirrel, keep your cousin under control."

Mary-Grace saw Jess raise an eyebrow in a silent question: _‘Baby Moose’? What kind of nickname is that?_ The older Winchester sometimes forgot how similar Jess was to her uncle Sam-- crazy-smart, selfless to a fault, and an attitude on her to match her height. Jess was a lot like Gabriel, too; a sucker for candy, dark sense of humor and often the reason why Mary-Grace’s shampoo had turned into hair remover overnight (she was still thinking of a good comeback for that one). 

"– and now, thanks to Samael, we’re in Hell." Jess was saying, jolting Mary-Grace from her thoughts.  
"And what will you do for me?" Crowley asked, lacing his fingers together.  
"We aren't here to make a deal,” Mary-Grace interrupted before Jess could speak, earning an annoyed glare from her cousin. Crowley sighed.  
"It won't be that easy, love. You _have_ to sign a contract.”  
"A contract for what?"

"Well..." the King of Hell said, standing up. "I need something important-- a soul, to be exact. You get me the soul, I get you into the Cage and back out again.” Mary-Grace narrowed her eyes.  
"What’s the catch?” Crowley shrugged.  
“There isn’t one, apart from the fact that I’m your only way out of here, so you’d best do what I ask. Unless you fancy rotting in the torture chambers of Hell, which can be arranged.”

Jess glanced over at her cousin, and they shared a look. Mary-Grace nodded and shifted in her seat.  
“Okay. We’ll accept your deal. Whose soul are we looking for?” Crowley gave them a cat-like grin.  
“You might know him. He’s your grandfather, John Winchester.”

~ * * * ~

Sam and Dean were down to rations now. It had been almost ten days since Mary-Grace and Jess had contacted them. Every one in a while, the lights in the bunker flickered and the ceiling shook as one of Samael’s angels tried to get in. Dean had no idea if his daughter was in Hell, or dead, or both. He barely slept, barely ate, barely did anything save drink and check his cellphone for something, _anything_ , that could give him some indication that the girls were alright. 

Sam and Gabriel at least had each other, and Liliel was keeping her distance, mostly staying in one of the spare rooms in the bunker or milling about in the kitchen, trying to find extra food for the boys. Gabriel had regained most of his strength by then and had conjured up some food, but it tasted strange and Dean wasn’t that hungry, anyway.

Dean stood in the war room alone, phone sitting on the table beside him. He drummed his fingers absently against the tabletop, seriously beginning to wonder whether they could take on Samael and his garrison. They’d fought the Devil himself, the Leviathans, the freakin’ Darkness… surely they could beat a bunch of whiny dicks with wings. Liliel had reported that Samael had at least eight members of his group, but since their partial victory ten days ago, it was likely more had come to his aid. Liliel confirmed that at least twenty angels were waiting outside the bunker.

Dean gritted his teeth, slamming a fist against the tabletop. He wanted to go to Sam, maybe discuss a plan of action with him-- but his pride stopped him. Dean was so used to bottling up his feelings, and this wouldn’t be an exception. He grabbed his phone off the table with a sigh, intent on scouring the kitchen for any available food he might have lying around-- an unlikely venture, but what else was there to do?

He found Liliel in the kitchen, sitting on the counter, busy tying her hair up into a ponytail. When Dean entered, she glanced up, nodding at him in acknowledgement.  
“Where are Sam and Gabriel?” The Winchester asked as he opened a cupboard above the sink. He found an empty box of Lucky Charms and an apple. Liliel thought for a moment.

“Library or bedroom,” she eventually decided, as Dean took a bite out of his apple. “What time is it?” Dean checked the clock next to the fridge.  
“Nearly nine.”  
“Bedroom it is.” Dean snorted, putting his apple on the countertop and opening the fridge door in search of a beer. He found a case of Bud Light (how it got in there, he had no idea-- a prank by Gabriel, most likely), and was tempted to throw it out, but he needed alcohol and he could suffer through a piss-poor excuse for some as long as it got him drunk. 

Dean popped the lid of one of the bottles and took out another, offering it to Liliel. She cocked her head, frowning in a way that was so similar to Cas it made Dean’s chest ache.  
“I don’t normally drink, Dean.” Her frown eased slightly as Dean continued to hold out the beer. “I can’t get drunk on just one or two, anyway.”  
“Humor me,” Dean said flatly. Liliel took the drink and opened the lid, taking a sip. She made a face and Dean chuckled.

“It’s a crap drink, I know. If we get outta this, I’m taking you and Cas to a bar sometime. Get you the best drinks there. My treat.” Liliel smiled around the bottle of Bud Light. She took another sip, decided it wasn’t to her liking, and put it back in the fridge. There was a long silence as they watched each other. 

“Do you miss him?” The angel asked suddenly. Dean nearly spat out his beer.  
“Cas?”  
“Yes. Do you miss him?” The Winchester bit his lip, debating over how much he should share. _Ah, screw it. Might as well_.  
“I miss him like hell,” Dean admitted, feeling his throat tighten as he spoke. “Every time I try to sleep, I keep waking up thinking he’ll be beside me, and he’s not. It...” he swallowed. “It’s screwing with my head, wondering what those dicks with wings are going to him in the Cage. And Mary… I don’t know if she’s dead or _what_. It’s been ten days and I haven’t even gotten a freakin’ phone call from her. Hell screws with people’s heads, makes them do things they shouldn’t and I just...” Dean choked up, trying to suppress the tears with another long drink of beer. 

Liliel put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “It’s not your fault,” she said softly. “I know you’re blaming yourself, but this started because my brothers and sisters wanted another apocalypse. You feel like you don’t have any control over what’s going on, and you’re scared.” Dean didn’t reply, letting the angel continue.

“...I’m scared, too,” Liliel muttered. “I had to watch my brothers try and kill each other. I felt like it was out of my control, and that scared me more than I wanted to admit. I’m scared that Samael will break in and kill us all. I’m scared that Castiel may not return in one piece.” Dean winced at that. Liliel chewed her lip, considering her next words carefully.

“But... trust me when I say your niece and daughter will make it. They will find your husband and they will bring him back. I want Castiel returned as well. And when he does, we’ll destroy Samael’s garrison.” Dean nodded.

“Thanks. I’m gonna try and get some sleep. You okay to stay up and keep watch?” Liliel smiled.  
“I don’t need sleep, remember? I’ll go to the library and read.” Dean grunted an affirmative and stepped out of the kitchen, wandering down the hall of the bunker towards his room. He felt Liliel’s eyes on his back as he went.

~ * * * ~

“ _John Winchester_?” Jess echoed, eyes narrowing. She knew next to nothing about her grandfather, save that he’d kicked her father out for wanting to go to university and that he’d basically been a deadbeat dad for most of her uncle and father’s lives. That, and hazy memories from almost two decades ago, which she’d put down to a dream…  
“Alright. We accept, right?” Jess looked over at Mary-Grace, who nodded reluctantly.

Crowley clapped his hands. “Fantastic. Before you go, I’m afraid one of you is going to have to sign a contract with me. Just for closure, of course. No strings attached-- I’ll just own your soul until you find John Winchester for me.” Jess swallowed.  
“Okay, I’ll do it. Hand the contract over.” Crowley produced a long scroll of parchment from his desk. He waved a hand, and words began to appear on the surface of the parchment. Jess recognized her name, written in an impossibly cursive text, and a blank space at the bottom of the parchment, presumably for her signature. 

“Now, we’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way,” Crowley said pleasantly. “You’ll have to seal the deal with a kiss.”  
Jess made a choking noise.“ _What_?”  
Crowley put a hand to his heart in mock offense.  
“Darling, I’m _wounded_. But if it really bothers you that much, Dante or Chell are happy to take my place.” Jess resisted the urge to gag. But if she had to pick one, she might as well pick Dante-- she knew him best, after all.

“Dante, then.” Jess pointed to the crossroads demon in the corner. Even with his true form, he managed to look thrilled. Crowley snapped his fingers, and Dante’s form shrunk and contorted into the meat-suit he’d been using when Mary-Grace had summoned him. He grinned like an idiot and walked over to Jess, grabbing her hands.  
“After you,” Dante murmured in her ear. Jess turned bright red and grabbed his face, smashing their lips together, wanting to just get it over with.

Dante’s lips were surprisingly soft, and Jess found herself leaning into his body more than she’d intended to. She heard the crossroads demon make a small noise of astonishment as he pulled away, as if he’d expected her to punch him but was pleasantly surprised that she didn’t. 

Jess made a show of wiping her lips on her sleeve, trying to ignore her heart pounding like a jackhammer in her chest. Dante’s meat-suit melted away, and he gave her one last wink before he reverted back to his true form. Jess curled her lip at him and stood next to Mary-Grace, who looked like she was going to be sick. Turning to Crowley’s contract, the younger Winchester watched as her name appeared at the bottom of the parchment. 

Crowley waited for the name to completely materialize before he motioned to the door he’d mentioned earlier.  
“I’d wish you luck, but there’s a distinct lack of that down here. Try not to die.”  
Mary-Grace made a noise halfway between a laugh and a snort and grabbed Jess by the sleeve, dragging her through the door and into the next circle of Hell.

~ * * * ~

“I’m hungry,” Jess complained as the girls walked, occasionally ducking out of sight to avoid a demon. They were in one of Hell’s “lower levels”, as Crowley referred to it, and it fit the whole hellfire-and-suffering aesthetic better than the previous areas of the Pit had.  
Giant stalagmites and stalactites shot up from the ground or hung precariously from the ceiling, and torches were fitted against the walls of what resembled a cave. 

The walls and floor were made of some kind of dark red stone, and something sticky and dark kept dripping into Mary-Grace’s hair. She didn’t want to check what it was.  
“There’s a Pop-Tart in my bag,” she told her cousin, reaching behind her and unzipping her backpack, handing the treat to Jess.  
“ _Thank_ you,” Jess gasped, cramming the Pop-Tart into her mouth like it was the last thing she’d ever eat. Mary-Grace rolled her eyes, zipping her bag up again and trudging on.

The cave they were currently in had no doors like the hallways before. However, there were plenty of places to hide, which was beneficial to the girls, but also made it easier for all manner of nasty things to jump out and kill them. Crowley had told them to just walk, and Hell would shape itself to lead them to their destination. Mary-Grace hoped he was telling the truth. 

It wasn’t long before the Winchesters started to hear them-- distant screams, cries of pain and peals of laughter bouncing off the walls around them. Mary-Grace shivered involuntarily, wishing not the first time that she was back at the bunker with Dean and her uncles. She felt Jess move closer to her, heard her cousin’s light breathing. 

They kept walking, spurred on by adrenaline and any extra candy Jess had in her bag. The screams got louder, and the cavern brighter-- Mary-Grace watched her shadow dance against the walls, and she smelled smoke and flames ahead of her. She sucked in a breath as she and Jess exited the cave and arrived in a huge cavern. 

It was easily the size of Manhattan Island, with a ceiling that disappeared into darkness and a floor made of the same stone as the cavern before. Demons and souls were dotted left and right, and pits of fire and brimstone burned steadily in pots as large as cars. The screams were much louder, almost deafening, and Mary-Grace could now see where they were coming from. It was the souls, strung up on racks to be flayed alive or dipped into pots of boiling water. The floor at Mary-Grace’s feet was stained with blood and feces and ash. Jess cringed, taking a step back, but the older Winchester caught her arm. 

“No. We have to keep going. _We have to find Dad_.” Mary-Grace tightened her grip on her cousin’s arm, and Jess nodded quickly. Mary-Grace steeled herself and surged forward into the muck, praying the demons would just pass them off as miscellaneous souls. 

For the most part, the demons were too focused on torturing their respective souls to notice Mary-Grace and Jess wandering through the cavern in search of John Winchester. A few gave them odd looks, and the ones that Mary-Grace guessed were more powerful demons whispered among themselves, but oddly enough left the girls alone. This should have been a red flag, but Mary-Grace had a mission. She narrowed her eyes and kept going, Jess a few steps behind her. 

They’d made it about a mile in when they were approached by two demons, both seven feet in height. Mary-Grace stopped and stood her ground, staring up at the demons in a silent challenge.  
“You’re new,” the first one said, inspecting the girls as if they were slabs of meat. “We get a lot of new souls, but...”  
“You’re not dead,” the second demon finished. Mary-Grace took a deep breath. 

“We’re looking for John Winchester. The demon hunter--”  
“We know who he is,” the first demon interrupted, making an odd clicking sound in the back of its throat. “Oh yes, we know who he is.” It tittered, its eyes glowing a little brighter at the mention of the name. The other demon shrugged its bony shoulders.  
“Why do you want to know? You shouldn’t be here.”  
“We were sent by Crowley,” Jess explained. “We’re here on his orders. You gonna disrespect that?”

The demons shared a look, chittering excitedly, before turning back to the girls.  
“You want us to take you to him?”  
“That would be good.” The demons chittered again, then the second stepped forward and extended a gnarled, talon-clad hand.  
“Follow us.” Mary-Grace frowned, staring at the hand, until Jess nudged her and said quietly, “It wants you to take it.”

The older Winchester nodded quickly and took the demon’s outstretched hand. Immediately, her surroundings blurred and in a matter of seconds she was standing in the centre of the gigantic cavern. She couldn’t even see the entrance she and Jess had emerged from. Jess appeared beside her with the first demon, stumbling a little in disorientation. 

Jess bumped Mary-Grace’ arm and pointed upwards. “Look.” And she looked.  
A body, which must have belonged to John Winchester, hung suspended on wires a few feet above them. Hooks were lodged in his arms, legs and torso, and most of his skin had been flayed from his body, including half of his face. Bits of cheek and chin hung from the muscle where his face had been, and his eyes stared blankly at nothing. Flies-- how there were _flies_ in Hell, Mary-Grace had no idea-- buzzed around John Winchester’s exposed muscle, laying eggs in his flesh. 

Jess made a sick noise and doubled over, gagging. Mary-Grace herself felt bile bubbling up in her throat, but she swallowed it down. She pointed at John, nodding at the demons.  
“This is him?” The second demon bobbed its head.  
“Yes.”  
“Good. Get him down for us.” The demons blanched. Mary-Grace raised an eyebrow.  
“Was I not clear enough? _Unstring him_.”  
“Why?” The first demon growled. The older Winchester shrugged.

“Crowley’s orders. He needs the soul.” The second demon shook its head.  
“I don’t think so. If Crowley needed a soul brought to him, he would have sent for demons, not little girls with angel blood in their veins.”  
“How did you...” The second demon laughed throatily.  
“I can smell it on you, girl. Smells like the one that came through here recently-- name started with an ‘s’.” _Samael_ , Mary-Grace realized. 

“So we don’t think you’re here on Crowley’s orders,” the second demon continued, “and because you’re not here on his orders, we can kill you.”  
“Flay you just like the Winchester!” The first demon hissed excitedly. “Flay your skin from your bones and suck out the marrow!”  
Jess had pulled out her angel blade and was holding it defensively. Mary-Grace did the same, backing up so she stood beside her cousin.

“There doesn’t have to be a fight,” Jess said slowly as the demons circled them. “We can walk out of here and no one needs to die.”  
“’No one needs to die’.” The second demon mocked in a high voice. “Pretty words for a pretty girl. But you’re in our domain now, little angel. Your brothers and sisters can’t help you any more than John Winchester can.” With that, it lunged forward, swiping at Jess, who yelped and rolled out of the way. 

Mary-Grace ran at the first demon before it could react, jumping into the air and landing on the demon’s back. She winced as its spines and ribs dug into her skin, but clung onto the demon as best she could as it shrieked and thrashed. The older Winchester pulled out her angel blade and tried to stab it into the demon, but the weapon glanced off a bit of bone and clattered to the ground, leaving Mary-Grace defenseless. She instead grabbed the sides of the demon’s head and dug into its eyes, temporarily blinding it. 

As it shrieked again, she dropped from its back and rolled across the ground, grabbing her angel blade and stabbing it into the demon’s leg. This time, the blade hit home, driving through the meat of the leg and clean through the other side. The demon went down, claws swiping at Mary-Grace’s face. One talon caught her across the cheek, the momentum sending her spinning to one side. She felt tears prick her eyes from the pain as blood welled on her cheekbone. 

Getting up from the rocky floor with a grunt, the Winchester dragged herself back to the first demon and slammed her angel blade into its chest. She felt her angelic grace surge to life as the demon let out a piercing scream, claws shooting up to grab at her throat. They’d just closed around Mary-Grace’s neck when the demon shuddered, the light fading from its eyes. Mary-Grace stabbed it again in the chest, and twice more in the head for good measure, making sure it was dead. 

“Jess?” The older Winchester called out, worry on the edge of her voice.  
“Over here,” her cousin replied, sounding tired but not hurt. Mary-Grace jogged over to the source of the voice, and found Jess sitting on top of the second demon, her blade lodged in its skull. She had a long, shallow cut across her right forearm, and a split lip and blackening eye, but she didn’t look too seriously injured. Mary-Grace shot her a grin, then frowned when it wasn’t reciprocated. Instead, she bent over, catching her breath and listening to Jess’ gasping beside her. 

“Well done, girls.”  
The cousins’ heads shot up, and they saw Crowley in front of them, alone and still occupying his meat-suit. He glanced up disdainfully at John Winchester, who was still hanging motionless from his hooks and chains.  
“Poor fellow's not doing too well for himself, is he?” The King of Hell remarked as if he were discussing the weather. Mary-Grace was too exhausted to reply.

“Well, you did as I asked-- you found John Winchester, the little bugger. And you killed a couple of my demons in the process. Which is why,” Crowley produced Jess’ contract, “I’m going to withhold this for a little bit longer. Consider it a compensation for the demons you stabbed to death.”  
“That wasn’t… part of the deal...” Jess wheezed, getting up from her seat on the dead demon. 

Crowley shrugged nonchalantly.  
“Your fault for not paying attention to the details, darling. It’s all in the contract.” He tapped the paper, the smirk on his face practically asking for Mary-Grace to smack it off. Before she could however, Crowley coughed, dusting imaginary dust off his impeccable suit.

“But, since I’m a generous King of Hell, I’m going to give you a little head-start to finding poor Castiel.” The demon snapped his fingers, and Mary-Grace and Jess were once again plunged into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, Jess sells her soul to Crowley temporarily as closure, while he gets the girls to fetch John Winchester's soul from the pits of Hell as proof they want to get Castiel back. Jess shares a kiss with Dante the crossroads demon. She and Mary-Grace travel down to another level of Hell, closer to the Cage, and find John Winchester's soul after a nasty skirmish with two demons. Finally, Crowley attempts to double-cross the girls by keeping hold of Jess' soul despite them fulfilling their end of the bargain. The girls are thrown into the Cage, where they are left to fend for themselves.


	6. Devil's Gotta Earn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls finally reach the Cage, though not through the circumstances they'd expected. Samael and his garrison prepare an assault on the bunker, and Lucifer pays Jess a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *trumpets sounding* AYYYY, I'm over halfway through this fic!! I hope y'all have enjoyed it so far-- this is where shit gets interesting (I hope...). Except not really because this is a filler chapter... oops.

It was impossibly quiet here, Jess realized. She squinted with her good eye, trying to adjust to the gloom. She felt Mary-Grace move beside her, and Jess stuck out her arm, trying to find her cousin. Her fingers closed around Mary-Grace’s shirtsleeve.  
“Mary, it’s me,” Jess hissed. Mary-Grace grabbed Jess’ sleeve in response.  
“I know. Do you have a light?”

Jess pulled a lighter from her backpack, after a few moments of fumbling in the darkness. “Here, gimme your bag.” Her cousin handed her her own backpack after a small noise of confusion. Jess opened it and, using the glow from her lighter, sifted through it until she found a wrap of bandages and a wooden stake from a trickster hunt they’d done a couple weeks ago. Jess silently thanked whatever deity was watching that the stake was still there. 

With one hand, she tore off a wad of gauze and wrapped it around the stake. With the other, she lit the bandages aflame and held up the makeshift light triumphantly.  
“It’s not ideal,” Jess admitted, “but it should work for now.” Mary-Grace nodded, her face pale in the yellowish light the torch gave off. Jess frowned, gesturing at the deep cut on her cousin’s face.  
“Lemme see that.” She took Mary-Grace’s face in her hands, giving the torch to the older Winchester, and turned her head to one side. 

“I’ve got a giant bandaid in my pack. You got the whiskey, needle and floss?” Mary-Grace nodded in confirmation and pulled out the items from her bag. Jess splashed the alcohol on her cousin’s face, and then accepted the needle and dental floss. With practiced precision, Jess stitched up the older Winchester’s cheek, pausing whenever Mary-Grace flinched. She had to redo a couple of stitches, but eventually she finished, placing a bandaid over Mary-Grace’s cheek, stepping back to admire her handiwork. 

“There. All done.” Jess’ cousin smiled tentatively, then glanced around, trying to discern something from her surroundings.  
“Where… where are we?” Jess chewed the inside of her cheek.  
“I have an idea where, and you’re not gonna like it.” Mary-Grace paused, thinking.  
“The Cage?” She guessed. Jess nodded solemnly. 

“Where else? Crowley practically said it himself. ‘I’m gonna give you a head start’,” the younger Winchester echoed sarcastically, wincing as her split lip caught on her teeth.  
“Then we need to find Dad,” Mary-Grace said immediately, standing up and trying to take a step forward. She wobbled on her feet, and would have face-planted had Jess not caught her.

“Slow down,” the younger Winchester chided gently, sitting her cousin down. “We both need to rest first.”  
“But--” her cousin began. Jess shook her head, cutting her off.  
“No ‘buts’. We’re useless if we’re tired, you know that. The better-rested we are, the better chance we have of saving Cas and getting out of here. We’ll sleep in shifts, make sure Lucifer or Michael don’t find us before we find Cas. Okay?”

“Okay...” Mary-Grace mumbled, already half-asleep. Jess tossed her bag down beside her and shoved the end of the stake into the ground, pulling out her angel blade and placing it on her lap. She kept herself awake by inspecting the injuries she’d collected over the journey here-- the scars of the angel’s wings across her upper torso, the bruises littering her skin from the fall into Hell, the split lip, black eye and cut on her arm from the skirmish with the demons earlier. Jess had barely had time to process it all, before she was whisked away to another circle of Hell, onto a bus or through some magical portal into the unknown. 

And now they were here. In the Cage-- the one place it’s supposed to be impossible to get into or out of ( _although Lucifer had proved that fact untrue multiple times over_ , Jess mused to herself). With the Devil himself and his pissed-off older brother.  
Jess dropped her head into her hands, wishing she was anywhere but here. Literally anywhere-- she’d fight off Samael and his garrison any day over Hell and the freakin’ Cage…

A noise jerked Jess out of her pity party, and she sat up, listening intently. The Cage had been silent as the grave before, but now there was a low whooshing sound, almost like the wind. Except there was no wind here. Jess tensed, standing up and holding her angel blade close. She kept a wary eye on Mary-Grace as she stepped forward, staring into the choking darkness before her.

“What do you want? Who’s there?” Jess cursed herself as her voice came out squeakier than she’d anticipated. The wind picked up, and a low chuckling filled Jess’ ears. Her hands tightened on her angel blade and she hissed into the dark, “Show yourself, dammit!” The chuckling increased in volume, and a figure appeared out of the darkness, materializing in front of her. It was a man, a little taller than her, wearing a light green shirt and jeans speckled with blood. He had sandy blond hair and cold, dead-looking grey-blue eyes. 

“You must be one of the Winchester girls,” the man said in a deceivingly casual tone, “so which one is it? Castiel’s girl, or Sam’s?” Jess narrowed her eyes.  
“Sam’s. You’re Lucifer? Why are you not in your true form?” Lucifer laughed softly.  
“I can see where you got your intelligence from. Yes, I’m Lucifer, the Devil, Satan, et cetera. I’m not in my true form because this isn’t real.”

“I’m dreaming?” Jess demanded, pointing her blade at Lucifer. He shrugged.  
“Technically, yes. We can still make physical contact, however.” He stepped forward and gave her a playful shove. Jess stumbled back, glaring at the Devil.  
“This form was one of my vessels, once,” the fallen angel continued, stretching his arms to drive the point home. “His name was Nick, I believe. Not the most ideal vessel, but good enough until I got a hold of your father.”

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Jess snapped. Lucifer smiled, cat-like.  
“Someone’s touchy. You should be proud of Sam, Jessica. That is your full name, correct?” Jess nodded reluctantly. Lucifer rubbed his hands together.  
“I thought so. Trust Sammy to be sentimental about his old girlfriend. A real tragedy, that girl--”

“Why are you talking to me?” Jess interrupted. Lucifer raised an eyebrow, nodding for her to go on.  
“I mean, you must know why my cousin and I are here. Why are you talking to me instead of, I don’t know… killing me? This is your domain, after all.” Lucifer considered this, stroking his chin. 

“Smart, Jessica. Very smart. See if you can guess the rest.” Jess pursed her lips.  
“You… You want to see what we can do. You’re impressed we made it this far and you want to give us a fighting chance, because you’re bored and we’re new and interesting.”  
“ _Bingo_!” Lucifer grinned. “Ten points to Gryffindor, Jessica. Although ‘impressed’ is stretching it a little-- I was thinking more… _mildly surprised_ , that you and your cousin haven’t died a thousand times over yet.”

“I’m touched,” Jess replied flatly. “And I’d like to wake up now.” Lucifer tutted.  
“Patience, Jessica. You will, soon, don’t worry. I want to get to know you a little better first.”  
“Why not ask Mary?” The fallen angel pouted.  
“Too much like her fathers-- headstrong, gets angry easily, too… righteous. You, on the other hand, you’re so much like Sammy and Gabriel. You can appreciate things your cousin can’t-- common sense, intelligence, cunning. You’re _rational_.” 

Jess knew he was deliberately complimenting her to get to relax her guard; but she couldn’t help but puff up a bit at the Devil’s words. It felt good to be acknowledged as more than ‘the smart one’, even if it was Satan himself who was telling her.  
“Alright.” Jess walked towards Lucifer cautiously, keeping her angel blade up. “Since I can’t wake up until we’ve had our little heart-to-heart, what do you want?”

“Simple. I’m here to tell you you’re going to lose,” Lucifer said pleasantly. 

~ * * * ~

Samael appeared in a flutter of wings outside the bunker, where the rest of his garrison had amassed. Word of his plans had spread throughout Heaven, and he’d gained far more allies than he’d anticipated. Angels were practically coming out of the woodwork to fight by his side, a fact that made Samael suppress a grin of pride. 

Soon enough, the Winchesters and their friends would be dead and the angels could go on to be the most powerful beings on Earth once again. Maybe they’d even keep a few humans around, just for fun. Samael smiled, imagining a world free of those apes his father called ‘perfect’. _Perfection_ , Samael thought smugly, _is unachievable for anyone other than an angel. It would be blasphemy to say otherwise_.

Once upon a time, he might have thought different-- when Lucifer can been cast from Heaven, for example. No angel dared oppose the might of God then, for fear of being thrown into the Cage with their brother. Now God was gone; all remnants of him washed away with Lucifer and Michael and the previous botched apocalypse. 

The angels allowed themselves, slowly but surely, to think more freely, and over the years Samael realize that Lucifer had been right all along. Humans-- every single one-- were just as bad, if not worse, than demons. At least demons were inherently evil; humans, on the other hand, chose to be. Samael’s lip curled and he strode over to Raziel, who was talking with a group of foot soldiers. Samael’s brothers and sisters all saluted and acknowledged as he approached, and Raziel peeled away from the group to greet his brother.

“Samael,” the younger angel said happily, clapping Samael on the shoulder, “these are new arrivals. Camael, Eremiel, Zadkiel and Kushiel, meet Samael.” The young angels-- probably mere fledglings, Samael guessed-- all nodded smiled up at their brother.  
“Thank you for joining us,” Samael said warmly, patting each of them on the shoulder. “We welcome your contribution.”

“And we accept it with the utmost thanks,” Eremiel replied, accompanied by nods from the others. Samael bade them farewell and motioned for Raziel to follow him.  
“How many is that now?” Samael asked him once they’d walked a fair distance away. Raziel paused, counting in his head.  
“Including those four? Forty-eight. Muriel and Nathaniel are expected to arrive within the hour.”

“Perfect. That is more than enough.” Samael clasped Raziel’s hand in his. “You’ve done well, brother. I’m impressed.” Raziel grinned.  
“Thank you, Samael. I should get the rest of the garrison together. When do you expect we’ll march on the bunker?” Samael considered this.  
“Twenty-four hours. It’s been almost a fortnight since we arrived. The wait has ended.”

~ * * * ~

“ _Excuse me_?” Jess frowned. Lucifer shrugged innocently.  
“There’s no way you can survive the Cage and get poor little Castiel topside before my brother Samael and the rest of our siblings smite you.”  
“Who made you the expert?” Jess snapped, causing Lucifer to bark out a laugh.  
“You’re adorable when you’re angry, Jessica. I’ve been rotting down here for millennia. I know a lost cause when I see one.”

“What else are we supposed to do?” Jess asked bitterly, talking more to herself than the Devil. He made a face.  
“Stay here. Michael and I get bored tearing each other apart all the time. You, your cousin, Castiel… one big, happy family. You are my niece, after all.” Jess cringed at that. However, given her current situation, the thought was tempting. She wouldn’t have to worry about Samael, or keeping her cousin safe, or saving Cas, or any of it…  
“Tempting, isn’t it?” Lucifer murmured, interrupting her train of thought. 

Jess shook her head violently; no. As much as she wanted to abandon the mission, she made a promise-- to her fathers, to uncle Dean. She said she’d find Cas and she had every intention to do just that. And she’d go down swinging if she had to.  
“I think I want to wake up now.” Jess surged forward, and punched Lucifer in the face.  
He reeled back with a small noise of pain, clutching his nose. Once he’d recovered from the shock, however, he gave her a glare that could melt stone.

“Consider my offer revoked,” he hissed, and Jess opened her eyes.

Mary-Grace was awake, and was munching on another Pop-Tart. She wiped crumbs off her face and frowned at Jess.  
“You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Jess bit her lip, wondering whether she should tell her cousin about Lucifer’s little dream visit.  
“...I’m fine. I’m sorry I fell asleep.” Mary-Grace shrugged nonchalantly.  
“Eh, I barely got much sleep anyway. I was awake not long after you passed out.”

Jess swallowed. “Did I… um, say anything in my sleep? I had a weird dream.”  
“No. What was the dream about?”  
“Something about lollipops and a really angry clown.” Mary-Grace let out a peal of laughter, making Jess flinch slightly.  
“You’re more like uncle Gabe and uncle Sam than I thought!”  
“ _I’m their child_ ,” Jess reminded her cousin dryly. 

Mary-Grace laughed softly, finishing her Pop-Tart and handing the second one to Jess, who practically inhaled it.  
“We should probably get moving. Dad isn’t going to find himself.” Jess nodded in between bites, standing up and stretching.  
“I know. Any particular direction you want to go in, or should we just start walking?”

Mary-Grace pulled a face. “We just walk, I suppose.” She grabbed Jess’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.  
“We can do this. Together?” Jess nodded.  
“Together.” Her cousin smiled and, together, the girls walked forward into the darkness, holding tightly to their angels blades, the torch and each other.


	7. Conflict is Good for the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean fight, and the girls finally find Cas. However, it's not the only thing they find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too graphic, but still-- descriptions of violence. If that's not your cup of tea, the end of the chapter has a summary of what happened. 
> 
> The action isn't very action-y-- this chapter took the better part of the century to finish so I wanted to focus more on character development :^)
> 
> Do you ship any characters? Tell me in the comments or leave kudos to show your support!! :3

Sam woke with a jolt, grabbing blindly at his blankets. He was breathing hard, shaking from a dream he couldn’t remember. A figure shifted beside him; Gabriel, woken by Sam’s nightmare, no doubt.  
“Sam?” Gabe mumbled into his pillow, squinting at his boyfriend in the darkness. Sam grimaced.  
“I’m sorry. Nightmares.” Gabe sighed and shifted his body closer to Sam’s. 

“About Jess?”  
“Probably. It’s already fading.” Gabriel nodded and wrapped his arms around Sam’s torso, their legs tangling under the blankets.  
“It’s okay. Do you wanna go back to sleep?” Sam shook his head slowly, wiping sleep from his eyes and checking the time: _4:05am_.  
“No, I’ll be okay. Can you… stay up with me? Unless you want to sleep,” Sam added quickly, cursing himself for not thinking of his boyfriend.

He felt Gabe chuckling softly against him. “I’ll probably doze off eventually, but for now, it’s fine, Samsquatch. Don’t get your panties in a knot.”  
“Okay.” Sam leaned backed against the pillows, peeling his sweaty shirt off and tossing the garment on the floor. Gabriel made a satisfied humming noise and curled up closer, until his head was resting on Sam’s chest.

Sam let out a huff and ran his fingers through the archangel’s hair, watching the minutes tick by on his clock. When an hour and a half had passed, Gabe had nodded off to sleep again, and Sam carefully climbed out of bed and headed down to the kitchen to grab a coffee, intent on doing some extra research in the library later.

He found Dean in the kitchen already, talking with Liliel. Sam often found his brother deep in conversation with the angel-- mostly about Cas, since Liliel knew him well in Heaven. That, and other things-- Samael, Hell, the apocalypse-- Liliel was a good listener, Gabriel had told Sam once, and Dean needed someone to talk to. Sam felt a little hurt that his brother didn’t want to speak with him, but then again, they’d been doing that for years. If Dean felt more comfortable getting angel therapy sessions, Sam was more than willing to let him. 

Liliel and Dean’s conversation puttered out when Sam entered the kitchen. He nodded at them, smiling tiredly.  
“How much sleep did you get?” He asked his brother, who snorted in response.  
“On a scale of one to ten, probably about a negative one.” Sam pursed his lips.  
“Dean, you need to sleep. If we’re going to fight Samael, we need to be fully alert.”  
“How are we supposed to be fully alert when the only food we have left is half a box of Lucky Charms and a Pop-Tart?” Dean demanded, raising an eyebrow.

“Gabe can conjure up food.”  
“It’s not the damn same and you know it, Sammy. Besides, he and Liliel are still getting their angel mojo back from the portal two weeks ago. Neither of ‘em are in much shape to be conjuring anything.” Sam glanced at Liliel, who nodded reluctantly.  
“It’s true,” she told him. “I’m sorry, Sam.”

“No need to apologize,” the younger Winchester replied. “I’m just trying to take stock of what supplies we have. We can’t last much longer; Gabe knows it, I know it, you two both know it. Something needs to be done.”

“We go out there,” Dean said, pointing upwards, “we die. That’s it. You, me, your boyfriend, Lili. We die and we don’t come back. We need the girls and Cas back if we want any chance of surviving.” Sam scoffed.  
“The girls are probably dead, Dean. Cas, too. No one goes that long in Hell-- in the Cage, for God’s sake-- without getting iced.”

“You did.” Dean’s face had darkened, but Sam wanted to drive his point home. He hadn’t lost hope entirely-- God forbid-- but he was certainly getting there. The sooner they let the girls and Cas go, the better.  
“And I lost my soul and nearly died when it got put back. I had hallucinations for months afterwards. Is that what you want for Jess? For Mary? For Cas?” Dean looked away, mouth opening and closing silently. After a moment, he turned suddenly and grabbed Sam by the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the far wall.

“Dean!” Liliel yelped, but Dean was oblivious.  
“You’re just gonna give up on them?” Dean growled, eyes blazing. “You’re just gonna abandon our girls and Cas in the Cage to rot?” Sam glared right back at his brother.  
“I’m being realistic, Dean. If it’s taken them this long, there’s no way they could have made it. It’s a lost cause,” he gritted out. Dean’s eyes had gone uncharacteristically glassy; he squared his jaw and shoved Sam back again.

“Don’t say that.”  
“It’s a damn lost cause, Dean.”  
“Don’t fucking say that!” Dean swung his hand back for a punch, but his arm was caught mid-swing. Gabriel stood behind him, face blank, eyes on Sam. Sam swallowed.  
“Let me go,” Dean grumbled, trying to wrench his arm away, but Gabe’s grip was like iron. He pulled the older Winchester back and thrust him in Liliel’s direction.

“Samael is trying to divide us,” Gabe said when no one spoke up. “He’s trying to make us turn against each other. We’ll be easier to kill that way. We need to stick together. No negative crap--” he looked at Sam pointedly, “--and no punching each other’s lights out. Got it?” Sam and Dean shared one last glare, then nodded reluctantly.  
“Good.” Gabriel grabbed Sam’s arm. “We’re going to the library. Lili, you’re coming with us. Let’s give Dean some time to hakuna his tatas.”

Sam let his boyfriend pull him out of the kitchen, and together they headed down the library. Sam sat down at one of the desks, as Liliel drifted between shelves, searching for books on angels. 

“I never got my coffee,” Sam complained, flipped open one of the books Liliel handed him and thumbing through the pages. He heard Gabe’s fingers snap, and a steaming cup of coffee appeared in front of him.

“Thanks,” the Winchester mumbled, taking a long sip. Gabe nodded, sitting down next to him and leaning in, brushing a lock of hair from the hunter’s eyes.  
“Just focus on the books, okay, Samsquatch?” Gabriel said softly, fingers ghosting across Sam’s cheek. He nodded.  
“I’m sorry, Gabe. I’m tired and there’s just so much at stake--”  
“Hey. It’s okay. We all screw up, Sam. Give Dean a couple of hours.” Sam nodded again and got back to his research.

~ * * * ~

It had been hours since Mary-Grace and Jess had been cast into the Cage, and the former had a foreboding feeling that they were simply walking in circles. She had no idea how huge the Cage was, or where her Dad was located, or whether Lucifer or Michael would appear and kill them both. And given their present situation, the latter was looking very likely. Mary-Grace sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her cheek stung from where the demon has slashed it, and her legs ached from walking. 

Mary-Grace glanced over at her cousin, who was trudging forward with the look of a woman with a mission, her brown eyes narrowed in concentration. Mary-Grace was impressed that her baby cousin had made it this far-- that she’d stuck to the plan, and had even pulled a few heroic moves as well. 

The older Winchester wished Jess was more in tune with her grace-- she didn’t understand why the younger girl would want to preserve her human side, since the angel half was what had kept them alive this whole time, anyway. She didn’t even have her own angel blade-- the one Jess carried was taken from one of Samael’s followers. Mary-Grace wondered if it might have had something to do with the fight she and Jess had had a little over a month before Castiel was kidnapped. She recalled how it had started.

_Sam and Papa were trying to fix a faulty sink in the bunker, while Dad and Gabriel were out picking up takeout. Mary Grace and Jess were talking in the former’s room, perched on the older Winchester’s bed. Jess had been acting odd for a few days, after she received a letter in the mail. She now sat across from her cousin, wringing her hands nervously._

_“Okay, spill. What’s up?” Mary-Grace asked, leaning forward. Jess chewed the inside of her cheek, and the older Winchester noticed her hands were shaking. After a moment, Jess took a deep breath and took her cousin’s hand gently in her own._  
"Mary, I've been thinking about this for a while now…" Jess had Mary-Grace's full attention now.  
"Where are you going with this?” She asked softly. 

_Jess took another deep breath._  
"I applied for Stanford a couple weeks ago," she blurted, and shut her eyes, waiting for the inevitable backlash. Mary-Grace’s jaw dropped, more in anger than in shock.  
"You did what _?" She said slowly, brows raising. Jess shrank back._

_"I applied for Stanford. Sent in my SAT scores and everything,” Jess repeated in a hushed voice._  
“And what did you hear back?”  
“I… I got in.” Mary-Grace felt the blood drain from her face. Jess couldn’t leave her here. She wouldn’t. Mary-Grace had no interest in attending college, and she had thought Jess wouldn’t either. Apparently, she was wrong.  
“So you’re just going to leave me here?” Mary-Grace whispered, barely containing her anger and indignation. She didn’t understand why people went to college, especially when they lived a life like hers and Jess’. Her cousin blanched.  
“N-no, I just--”  
“You want to live a human life.” Jess narrowed her eyes. 

_“That’s because I_ am _human--”_  
“You’re half _human, you mean--”_  
“I’m human enough to go to a freaking college! I didn’t know there was a law against it.” Mary-Grace gave her cousin a dark look.  
“You’re just going to abandon our family like that?” Jess looked hurt.  
“No, Mary, it’s not like that--”

 _“You want to leave us, like Uncle Sam did.”_  
“He wanted to go to school!”  
“School? School _? What the hell does school have that we don’t? Everyone there-- they’re not like us. They call us freaks, weirdos,_ different _. They tell secrets and hurt each other and tear each other apart. They’ll eat you_ alive _, Jess!”_

_“I just want to be normal for a few years! Is that too much to ask?” Jess yelled, rubbing at the tears that sprung to her eyes.  
“Family comes before anything else,” Mary-Grace insisted with a growl, “but I guess you don’t care about that.” There was a flutter of movement, and suddenly she flew across the room, her head smacking against the wall. Jess’ eyes were glowing a blinding gold, and she looked like she was going to smite her cousin then and there._

_“Don’t you_ dare _say that!” Jess screamed, her voice cracking. “Don’t you_ dare _assume what I do or don’t care about!_ You don’t know anything _!” Mary-Grace saw the shadow of wings appear across the wall behind Jess. She swallowed, scrambling away from her cousin’s direct line of sight, just as the door burst open and Uncle Sam and Papa strode in, with Cas and Uncle Gabe in tow. The murderous glow in Jess’ eyes had faded, and she sunk to the floor with a sob._

_Dean and Cas rushed over to Mary-Grace, inspecting her for injuries. Finding none, her Papa stood and demanded, “What the hell happened in here?”_  
Jess was sobbing, practically in hysterics, her hair a mess and her eyes rimmed with red.  
“Jess got into Stanford,” Mary-Grace told her father simply. Her uncles’ heads whipped up and Sam’s jaw dropped open. He stared at his daughter. 

_“You applied for Stanford, Jessica?” Jess didn’t answer; instead, she looked away and hid her face in her hands. Gabriel put a gentle arm around her and gave Sam a look that said “stop talking before you make it worse.” Jess and Gabe vanished in a flutter of wings. Sam sighed loudly and ran out of Mary-Grace’s room after his boyfriend and daughter.  
“Mary-Grace?” It was the half-angel’s Dad, Cas. He crouched beside her and put a hand on her shoulder._

_Mary-Grace looked at the ground in shame.  
“I screwed up,” she murmured._

“Mary? You alright?” Jess had stopped and was staring. Mary-Grace nodded.  
“As alright as I can be. Let’s--” she stopped when she heard a low groan, to her right.  
“Did you hear that?” The older Winchester hissed. Jess nodded excitedly. Mary-Grace grinned, “That’s got to be him. Come on!” She grabbed her cousin’s hand and they ran in the direction of the voice, their footsteps echoing across the ground.

The girls came to a halt a couple hundred feet ahead, squinting into the darkness. A figure was just visible, slumped over on the ground. Mary-Grace saw an unmistakable beige trench coat lying to the figure’s left.  
“ _DAD_!” She yelled, rushing forward and dropping to the ground beside Castiel. She cupped her father’s face in her hands and lifted it up so they made eye contact.

“There are no hamburgers in Hell,” Cas mumbled. His daughter choked out a laugh.  
“Dad, it’s me. It’s Mary. I’m here.”  
“Mary-Grace?” Her Dad asked weakly. “Are you real?” Mary-Grace nodded, feeling tears prick at her eyes.

“I’m real. I swear I’m real. Jess and I came to save you-- we have to get out of here!”  
Cas was frowning. “You shouldn’t have done that. Lucifer and Michael will kill you--”  
Jess cleared her throat. “Speaking of which, we have company!”  
Mary-Grace stood, supporting her father’s weight on her shoulder, and turned to face the two archangels before them.

Lucifer and Michael were in their true forms-- towering masses of light and wings and glowing like the fires of Heaven. Mary-Grace put a hand to her eyes, shielding them from the blinding light. Normally, exposure to an angel’s true form would kill a normal human, but neither Mary-Grace nor Jess were normal humans. They could stand exposure for maybe an hour or so before their eyes burnt out. They’d have to get out fast.

“ _Castiel_ ,” Michael rumbled. He pronounced it oddly, like “cas-teel” instead of “cas-ti-el”. “ _And your daughter and niece, no doubt_.”  
“Let them go,” Cas shouted up at the archangel. “Let them go, and I’ll stay here instead.”  
“ _No_!” Mary-Grace yelled. “No, we came all this way! We have to bring you back!” Cas silenced her with a look.  
“And that was a mistake. You should have left me here to rot.”

“Never,” Mary-Grace said brokenly. “No, I won’t leave you here. I made a _promise_ \--”  
“Dean will understand. It’s for the greater good.”  
“Samael is going to _kill_ Dean if you don’t come with us,” Jess snapped, stepping up to her uncle and glaring at him. “You don’t have a goddamn choice.”

“ _As much as I’m enjoying this family feud_ ,” Lucifer interrupted, “ _I thought we were going to smite these three. Michael, after you_?” Michael’s wings unfurled, and he bore down on the girls and Castiel. Jess and Mary-Grace shared a glance, communicating silently between each other. Jess’ eyes suddenly glowed white, and she broke into a sprint, running as fast as she could in the opposite direction to Mary-Grace and her father. Mary-Grace herself let Cas drop to the ground, and, using her grace to lend her the extra speed, took off the other way. 

“C’mon, Michael!” She screamed behind her as she ran. “Get your feathery ass over here!” Michael made a low growling noise and began to pursue her. Mary-Grace smiled grimly. She’d been counting on Michael’s pride to get him to follow her, and she’d been right. She hoped Jess had gotten as lucky with Lucifer.

Michael appeared in front of her suddenly, his true form smaller than she’d originally thought, but still towering a good seven feet above her. She squared her shoulders and pulled out her angel blade. Michael leaned forward, and Mary-Grace thought that if the archangel had had a face, he’d be grinning.

“ _You know you have lost, Mary-Grace Winchester_ ,” Michael told her, sounding so confident Mary-Grace very nearly surrendered on the spot. She took a moment to compose herself, then spat at the archangel’s feet.  
“I don’t think so.” With that, she dove forward, blade aimed at Michael’s legs.

~ * * * ~

Jess had been running for God-knew-how-long, and although she desperately wanted to keep going, her body forced her to a stop as she caught her breath. She gripped her angel blade so hard, her knuckles turned white. Her teeth chattered, and her hands shook. It didn’t take long for Lucifer to appear before her, in a flash of white light.  
“ _Jessica, Jessica, Jessica_ ,” he tutted, looming over her. “ _For Sam’s daughter, you are terrible at planning ahead_.”

 _Keep stalling him. Keep him distracted for as long as you can_.

“Maybe I was just trying to separate you and Michael,” Jess shot back. “Get you alone so I can beat you at your own game.”  
“ _Maybe_ ,” Lucifer admitted, “ _but somehow I don’t think so. I can see you shaking. You’re scared, Jessica. So very scared. I can sense it_.” Jess hated the way he used her name-- only her Papa got to call her ‘Jessica’.

“Okay, you got me there,” she told him quietly, “I am scared. Fucking terrified. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to kill you. Properly, not just send you to another part of Hell.”  
“ _And what makes you think you can do that_?” The Devil purred, his form shrinking so they were eye-to-eye. “ _Your own cousin doesn’t think you can handle hunting. Oh, don’t give me that look-- I can reads minds, remember? And what about your fathers? Oh, I see the looks they give you. ‘The smart one’-- that’s what everyone calls you. No one in that family thinks of you as you. And it makes you mad. Why not prove them all wrong_?” Lucifer drawled. 

“By...” Jess swallowed the lump in her throat. “By doing what, exactly?”  
“ _Joining me, of course. You and me, we can kill Michael, you can get me out of the Cage, we can take over Hell. If I couldn’t have Sam, I’ll settle for his daughter. And I’ll free your soul from that poor excuse for a demon, Crowley. I’ll even throw in my cards with you and destroy Samael and his followers. I can make it happen with a snap of my fingers_.” For effect, Lucifer snapped his fingers together. 

Jess bit her lip. She hated herself for thinking it, but it did seem like a pretty good offer. Her family would be safe, Samael would be dead and she could go to college like she’d wanted to for years. Except the Devil would rule the world. Jess remembered what her Uncle Dean had told her about the future he’d been transported to-- the cities ravaged by the Croatoan virus, demons roaming streets, humans wiped out to the point of near extinction. It wasn’t a future she wanted. She couldn’t betray her family like that.

“No.” Lucifer cocked his head.  
“ _No_?”  
“No,” Jess confirmed. “You can take your offer and shove it up your ass. I don’t want anything to do with you or your plans.”  
“ _Very well_.” And with one swift motion, Lucifer stabbed her in the gut. 

~ * * * ~

Castiel was lying on the ground, too weak to run-- or even walk, for that matter. He desperately wanted to help his daughter, his niece-- but they were so far away that even the sounds of battle were distant in Castiel’s ears. He pulled himself up to a sitting position and had just brought forth his angel blade when a small voice called from the shadows, “Are you Castiel?”

The angel turned his head, searching for the voice’s source, and he saw a young man crouching a few feet away. His form glowed faintly-- a soul, then. He had cropped blond hair and soft blue eyes, and was wearing a tattered grey jacket spattered with blood.  
“Yes. And you are Adam Milligan,” Castiel said. Adam nodded.  
“Yeah. Listen, I think I might know a way to get you out. I just… are you, y’know, okay in the head enough to listen?” Adam cringed at his words.

Castiel thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I believe I am. I’m mentally exhausted and very weak, but my mind is, for all intents and purposes, intact.”  
“Good,” Adam breathed a sigh of relief. “Look, there’s a way out of the Cage. It’ll get you topside, too-- it just… well, you need an intact human soul to do it.”  
“We need to find Mary-Grace and Jess first,” Castiel said before Adam could continue. The Winchester boy nodded.

“I know. I’ll help you.”  
“Good.”

~ * * * ~

Jess felt a searing pain as she looked down; the angel blade previously in her hand was now in Lucifer’s and lodged firmly in her gut. She collapsed with a low groan, pulling the blade with her, already feeling the blood leaving her system. She felt her body shaking as shock took hold. The blade had just missed her liver, thank God, but felt like it was buried in one of her intestines or a kidney. Lucifer leaned over her, clawed fingers brushing her cheek.

“Goodbye, Jessica,” he murmured. Jess shut her eyes, feeling a hand grip her shoulder. There was a rush of wind, and Jess’ eyes fluttered open. She wondered why she wasn’t dead yet. Castiel stood above her, a hand on her shoulder. Mary-Grace stood next to him, face and clothes a mess of blood and bruises. Standing apart from her family was a young man with short blond hair and blue eyes. Castiel explained that his name was Adam Milligan, but Jess was so out of it that she couldn’t even speak. The pain in her gut was so intense she thought she would pass out if she so much as titled her head. 

“Dad, Jess is hurt!” Mary-Grace exclaimed, bending down to inspect the wound. Jess hissed in pain when her cousin’s fingers brushed over the ragged hole that her angel blade was still occupying.  
“S’got m.. my gut,” Jess stuttered. “Lucifer g… he g.. s-stabbed me. Not... g-gunna make’t...”

“ _Bullshit_ ,” Mary-Grace spat. “You are going to live. I swear it.” She took one of Jess’ arms and motioned for Castiel to grab the other. Jess’ head lolled to one side and she felt drool and blood dribble onto her shirt. She heard Castiel talking to Adam in a low voice, and then her eyes closed and she passed out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mary-Grace fights Michael, Jess fights Lucifer. Jess' POV-- she tries to talk to Lucifer, but eventually he offers her something she has to disagree to and he stabs her. Castiel and Mary-Grace zap Jess out of the way just in time, and Adam's soul shows Cas and the girls a way out of the Cage. Jess passes out from shock before she can register anything.


	8. Family Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jess, Castiel and Mary-Grace return the bunker, to mixed reactions. Jess' condition worsens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gUESS WHO FINALLY UPDATED??!! M E  
> sorry it took so long, everyone!! chapter 9 is currently in the works as well, so hopefully there won't be another long wait! :^)

Jess came to in her bedroom in the bunker. At first, she thought she had to be dead-- this had to be Heaven (or Hell, considering she sold her soul to Crowley not long ago), and that meant Lucifer had finished her off, and she’d hallucinated finding Uncle Cas…  
“Jessica.” Jess raised her head with a grunt, eyes focusing. Her papa, Sam, was sitting on the edge of her bed. Gabriel was beside him. Her papa’s hand was clasped firmly in hers.

“Papa..?” Jess wheezed, shocked at how weak she sounded. She glanced to the side, the motion making her head spin, and found the rest of her family members crowded around her. To her left was Mary-Grace, twirling her hair nervously. To her right were her uncles, Dean and Castiel.  
"Home...?" She whispered hoarsely, making Mary-Grace jump.

"She's awake!" Mary-Grace hissed excitedly, instinctively wanting to hug her cousin. However, Sam held her back, shaking his head.  
"Home..." Jess repeated. "Alive?"  
"Yes," Sam said, a small grimace forming on his lips. His eyes looked pained, and Jess felt a pang of guilt for running off to Hell without telling him, or even trying to contact him. He and Gabe must have been worried sick.

"How...?" Jess croaked, her throat dry. Mary-Grace put a hand on her forehead, smoothing back her cousin’s hair.  
“There was a spell. We found Adam Milligan in the Cage, he told us about a back door that could get us all out. Just had to use a bit of my soul. We’re alright now.” Jess raised an eyebrow and looked over at her uncle.

Castiel was clinging to Dean for dear life, his demeanor a stark difference from the confident and determined Cas Jess had seen in the Cage. Gabriel and Liliel had their lips pursed, worried for their brother. They both spoke softly to him in Enochian, gentle hands on Castiel’s back. The angel was shaking, a sheen of sweat visible on his forehead.

“You don’t… you don’t look alright,” she said drily, letting out a small chuckle. The laughter hurt and Jess shut her eyes, blinking through the pain. Mary-Grace grimaced.  
“We’re working on it. You need to rest, though. You’ve been out for about a day, but the more sleep you get, the faster you’ll heal.” She stood and took Dean’s arm, motioning him, Castiel and Liliel out of the room, leaving Jess alone with her fathers.

As soon as the door closed, Sam leaned down and pulled her daughter into a tight hug, careful not to brush against the wound in her side. Jess felt tears fall against her shirt.  
“I’m so glad you’re home, Jessica,” her Papa whispered, burying his face in Jess’ shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re home.” Jess felt Gabriel embrace her from the other side, and she closed her eyes, happy to just be in her fathers’ company.

They stayed like that for a long, long time, until Jess eventually nodded off to sleep.

~ * * * ~

"It's all my fault. She's going to die, and it's all my fault," Mary Grace said, her voice cracking.  
"It's not your fault," Dean told her, choosing his next words carefully. They stood in the war room, dividing up what food they had left. Mary-Grace noticed her Papa’s cheekbones were hollower than before, and there were bags under his eyes that looked recent.

“ _Really_?” She said sarcastically, slamming an energy bar next to the slowly-growing pile of food. “Because I seem to recall that I was responsible for her.” Dean winced at that.  
“You can’t keep beating yourself up. You were up against _Michael and Lucifer_! Those sons-of-bitches are insane. And she’s not going to die.”  
"How do you know?" Mary-Grace murmured, rifling through her backpack for any extra food.  
“Just trust me, okay? Please, MG? Can you do that?” Dean was looking at her, desperately. Mary-Grace sighed.

"Papa..." Before she could continue, Castiel took his daughter into his arms and gently cupped her face in his hands. He looked exhausted, but his blue eyes held her gaze, forcing her to look at him.  
"She will not die, Mary-Grace,” he said slowly, trying to drive the point home. He looked more like himself than a few hours ago, and for that, Mary-Grace was secretly grateful-- she needed an anchor; someone to tell her everything was going to be okay.

"You promise?” She asked Castiel softly. He nodded.  
"I promise."  
"I hate to interrupt, but we have more pressing matters right now,” Liliel pointed out. “We can't stay in the bunker any longer." Cas nodded.  
"I know."

"We need to fight,” Liliel insisted, her hands curling into fists. Dean shook his head.  
"We can't.”  
"’We can't’?” The angel echoed. “What do you mean, ‘we can't’?"  
"We gotta have a plan."  
“Since when did a Winchester need a plan?” Liliel snorted.  
“Since our _family_ is at risk!” Dean snapped. Liliel sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“We’re out of food, supplies… everything but weapons-- we’ve got plenty of those. We have to fight. We _need_ to fight. Or we die,” she said simply. Dean dragged a hand down his face in exasperation.  
“...Okay, okay. Let’s do a stock-take, see what we got left-- weapons and food. We divide it all up, get some shut-eye, and we go out guns blazing. We got no choice, after all.” He glanced pointedly at Liliel.

“I second that,” Mary-Grace replied. “I can go get Sam and Gabriel.” She practically tripped over herself in an attempt to leave, sensing the tension in the air. Dean and Liliel shared a pained glance, and Castiel put a hand on his husband’s shoulder.  
“Dean. We should go.” Dean nodded slowly, his own hand moving to rest on Castiel’s. He let the angel lead him out of the room, leaving Liliel alone.

~ * * * ~

Cas and Dean lay in their bed, listening to the low hum of machinery above them. Dean hadn’t even bothered with a change of clothes-- he’d just pulled his husband into bed with him, held him close and listened to his heartbeat. Eventually, Cas broke the silence.  
“Dean?”  
“Yeah, Cas?”  
“Jess is going to die. Her wounds… they are too extensive for survival. You are aware of that, right?” Dean winced.

“I’m aware. I just… I don’t want to think about it, okay?” Castiel shifted against him.  
“I understand. I’m sorry if I upset you.” Dean shook his head, kissing the angel’s cheek.  
“You didn’t upset me, Cas. I’m just glad to have you home, y’know? I don’t wanna think about anything in the future-- I just wanna think about now.” Cas nodded.  
“Okay.” He reached up and held Dean’s face, thumbing across his cheeks in the darkness, mapping out each detail.

“When I was… trapped in the Cage,” Cas murmured, fingers trailing over Dean’s lips, “I kept thinking of you, Dean. I was so afraid I’d forget your name, forget Mary-Grace and Gabriel and Sam and Jess...”  
“But you didn’t,” Dean replied, taking Cas’ hands in his and squeezing gently. “You didn’t, and you’re here now, and you’re safe. Got it?”  
“I… I got it.” Dean smiled and pressed his lips to his husband’s.  
“Good.”

~ * * * ~

When Jess woke, she was alone in the darkness of her room. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and gasped when she rolled to one side, briefly seeing stars. Her abdomen was on fire. She could feel the gaping wound where Lucifer had stabbed her. Upon checking under her shirt, Jess saw the bandages that must have been placed there were soaked through with blood. There was blood all over the sheets of her bed as well. She looked like she’d been the victim of a ritual sacrifice, and Jess reckoned she felt it, too.

Nevertheless, after a few tries she was standing, still in her clothes from Hell. Jess painstakingly peeled off her layers of shirts, until she was down to a bloodstained tank top, then threw her warmest thermals over it, and a thick leather jacket after that. Jess didn’t own any armor, exactly, but this would have to do. She didn’t bother changing out of her pants; the pain was too intense and she’d already reached her limit just changing shirts. Instead, Jess collected her weapons from the floor-- the angel blade, her pocket knife and a sawed-off shotgun Papa must have left-- and stumbled out her door.

A quick glance at the clock in the hallway told Jess that about three hours had passed since she’d shown up at the bunker with Uncle Cas and Mary-Grace. She could feel her body shutting down, but she refused to die now. Not before they killed as many of Samael’s angels as possible.  
When Jess arrived in the war room, the rest of the bunker’s residents were already there. Liliel, Castiel and her Papa were taking stock of what food was available; Dean was patching up the cuts and bruises on Mary-Grace, and Gabriel was perched on the table, unusually quiet.

The entire room went silent as Jess entered, and she shifted uncomfortably. She could see her reflection in one of the metal panels across the room, and she looked half-dead; pale, sunken cheeks, bruises and scratches littering her face, more bags under her eyes than a supermarket. Jess chuckled a little to herself at that one.

Her Papa was the first to speak. He walked over, abandoning the food pile, and grabbed her daughter gently by the shoulders.  
“You should be getting some rest, Jessica,” he said softly. She shook her head.

“I’m coming... with you,” Jess declared, much wheezier than she’d intended. Everyone in the room collectively blanched.  
“You’ll die, jess,” Mary-Grace insisted, trying to take her cousin’s arm. Jess shrugged it off.

“I’m dying... anyway. The angel blade…. got me in the gut. I think it punctured my kidney... as well. You don’t… you don’t walk away from that.” She heard Sam inhale sharply.  
“Uncle Gabe or Lilli can heal… maybe Dad--” Mary-Grace was babbling now, and Jess was having none of it.

“Dad and Liliel are out of… out of grace-- it’s a miracle they’re still standing. And Cas… Cas isn’t in any shape to... be healing anyone. Let me come with you. I can... distract Samael, maybe kill him while you guys run..”  
“Absolutely not,” Dean interrupted harshly. “Enough with the self-sacrificing crap. You stay here, you heal, we gank the angels and get back. We need someone to man the bunker.”

“’Enough with… the self-sacrificing crap’?” Jess echoed sarcastically. “Are you kidding me? You and Papa’s relationship was… practically _built_ on ‘self-sacrificing crap’!”  
“That was then,” Sam said, getting in between Dean and Jess before they started throwing punches. “This is now. It’s different and you know it.”

“It’s not… it’s not different,” Jess protested, pushing her Papa away and shooting Dean a scathing glare. “It’s exactly the same, but… you’re too afraid to… let us do things for ourselves. You’re… you’re a coward, Dean.”

“You shut your mouth.” Dean’s voice was dangerously low. Jess caught the threat in her uncle’s tone and backed off a little.  
“My point… is that I’m not a child… anymore, Dean. If… if I want to do this… you have to let me do this.” Her uncle shook his head.  
“Nope. You’re staying here. End of conversation.” He turned away, focusing on readying his weapons.

Jess ground her teeth, but didn’t argue further. It’s not that she’d given up-- she had other plans on getting out-- but she didn’t want to push her uncle any further. He was stressed enough as it was, and walking into what was pretty much guaranteed to be a suicide mission didn’t help matters.

“Fine,” she said slowly, taking a seat at one of the chairs in the war room. “Fine, I’ll… stay here. But if we get out of this...” Jess shrugged. “I’m gonna… leave the bunker. I can’t do this anymore.” She received no answer, just a grunt.

In no time, the Winchesters and the angels had eaten, stocked up their weapons, and were ready to go. They didn’t waste time with long goodbyes-- tight hugs and whispers of “good luck” spoke enough words. Jess watched her family ascend the stairs of the bunker and push open the door. In a moment, they were gone.

As soon as the door slammed shut, Jess stood as quickly as her wound would allow-- she winced, recalling that it only took five or six hours for a gut injury to kill a human-- and dragged herself along the wall, down to the archives. She reached it after five painstaking minutes, and once she arrived, she used the toe of her boot to scratch away the Devil’s Trap in the centre of the archives’ secret room.

After she’d messed up the Trap, the Winchester set to work, grabbing all the ingredients to summon a demon. If her family wouldn’t let her fight, she had no qualms seeking… _alternative_ methods of leaving the bunker. Plus, she could use the extra help.

Once she’d gotten all the ingredients for the spell, Jess placed the bowl of the stuff in the centre of the inactive Devil’s Trap and sliced open her palm, letting her blood drip into the bowl. She lit the contents on fire, then began to speak.

“Dante,” Jess muttered into the darkness, “Dante, I… I need your help. The… Devil’s Trap is gone.” She was met with silence.  
“Dante, please,” Jess repeated, voice taking on an edge of desperation. “Please… I need you to help me. I need… you and Chell to help me.” Again, silence.

“Dante...” Jess’ voice cracked, and she bit her lip as the gash in her side flared up. She sunk to the ground, curling up into a ball, feeling tears prick at her eyes and drip down her cheeks.

“Jess?” Jess’ head snapped up, and she nearly cried as she saw Dante and Chell standing at the edge of the ruined Devil’s Trap. Dante tentatively gave her a hand up.  
“Crowley sent us,” Chell explained as Jess led them up the stairs to the main rooms of the bunker. “We’re supposed to help you destroy Samael and his angels.”  
“Think of it as an apology for keeping your soul and throwing you in the Cage,” Dante added. “Your contract has been terminated, by the way. You’re good to go.”

“Aside from… the fact that I’m dying,” Jess said dryly, getting a low chuckle from the crossroads demons.  
“Take it from me, sweetheart-- the less you worry about death, the better,” Dante said, giving Jess a pat on the back. Jess shook her head, laughing gently.  
“I’ll make sure to remind you of that when you get killed by an angel.” The crossroads demon winced.

“ _If_ I get killed.”  
“Whatever.” They’d reached the top of the staircase. Chell took a step back and was checking her weapons-- Crowley must have given the demons a couple of angel blades, for Chell had one strapped to her hip, as did Dante. The aforementioned was looking at Jess oddly.

“What?” Dante shrugged.  
“I don’t know. I mean, since we’re all probably gonna die, maybe we could...” Jess cocked an eyebrow.  
“What, make out... or something? That kiss... was for a _deal_ , jackass, not for kicks.”  
The crossroads demon gave her a little smile that Jess cursed herself for finding endearing.

“Worth a shot.” The Winchester chewed her lip. It was a demon… but then again, she could die in a few hours. What the hell, it wasn’t like she’d have to explain this to her fathers anyway-- they were outside the bunker, guns blazing. Jess cleared her throat.  
“I didn’t say no.”

Jess took Dante’s face in her hands and yanked him forward, their mouths crashing together quite unceremoniously. It took a few tries, but eventually Jess found a comfortable position and concentrated on nipping at Dante’s lip, her tongue flicking against his teeth. He groaned softly against her mouth and his hands wandered down to grab at her hips, pulling her even closer.

The kiss ended too quickly, and Jess jerked away with a gasp, sucking in air. She’d forgotten to breathe and quickly went red in the face as she saw Dante laughing.  
“One more time, sweetheart?” He purred in her ear. “Try and get it right this time, yeah?” Jess grinned and this time, she let him pull her closer, easing into his touch. The second kiss was less demanding and more chaste, and Jess closed her eyes, tangling her fingers in Dante’s hair.

“ _Ahem_ ,” Chell said awkwardly, sounding like she was holding back laughter.  
“Sorry to interrupt, but...”  
“I know.” Jess stepped back and took a deep breath, closing her eyes and trying to ignore the waves of pain from her side. She reckoned that, as a Nephilim, she had about seven or eight hours until she kicked it.  
Jess grabbed Dante’s hand and squeezed. After a moment, the demon squeezed back.

“Ready?” The crossroads demons nodded.  
“Ready.”  
Together, the trio opened the bunker doors and stepped out into the light.


	9. Fight to the death.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchester family are battling the angels, and it doesn't look good. Sam asks Gabe a question before they die. Is this the end of the Winchester family?

Samael saw them first, and even from this distance, Mary-Grace saw his steely eyes light up.  
"Look who it is, brothers and sisters,” the angel crooned, “the Winchesters have finally come out to play."  
"Can it, you son of a bitch," Dean snapped. Samael shook his head incredulously.  
“Even in the face of failure, you’re still insufferable. I’ll take great pleasure in removing your still-beating heart from your chest.”  
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Dean shot back, green eyes narrowing in silent challenge. Samael laughed.

“I don’t intend to...” he paused, looking along the lines of Winchesters and their angels.  
“Where is sweet Jessica?” He wondered aloud. “I don’t see her here. As I recall, she slaughtered Berechiel... I imagine many of my brothers and sisters would like to take their revenge.”  
“It’s none of your damn business where Jessica is,” Sam said before Dean could open his mouth. Samael’s mouth quirked.

“I see. Well, let’s not waste any more time squabbling.” In the blink of an eye, Samael was directly in front of Dean. Mary-Grace’s father jerked backwards as the angel swung his blade out in front of him, narrowly missing Dean’s chest.  
And with that, all hell broke loose.  
The angels descended on the Winchesters in a wave; some walked, some ran, and others simply materialized in front of their targets. Mary-Grace found herself quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of angels around her-- there had to be at least fifty in total.

She saw a blade aimed at her out of the corner of her eye and stepped backwards, the edge of the blade catching on her sleeve and ripping across her arm. Mary-Grace hissed in pain, dropping to the ground and rolling until she’d escaped the throng of angels. Her parents and uncles weren’t doing much better-- although Castiel and Gabriel were managing, Sam and Dean were back-to-back, fending off two or three angels at a time. Mary-Grace touched her arm, and her hand came away bloody. She cursed and stood, brandishing her angel blade and diving into the fray again.

She landed on an angel’s back, tackling him to the ground. Mary-Grace plunged her blade into his back, and used her momentum to tumble forwards, yanking the blade out again and swinging it at another angel. This one, a woman, shrieked in pain as Mary-Grace’s angel blade slashed her thigh. She lashed out with her fists, catching Mary-Grace in the jaw. The Nephilim flew backwards, head snapping to one side. She blinked, seeing stars briefly, and her back bumped against someone else.

“You alright there, MG?” Gabriel asked, squeezing her hand as he smote angel after angel, a grimace plastered permanently across his face. Mary-Grace nodded breathlessly.  
“Good. Keep your head up; only...” Gabriel squinted. “Thirty-seven to go.”  
An adrenaline-fueled laugh bubbled up into Mary-Grace’s throat, and she nodded again, only just dodging a blade aimed at her heart. Though she had decent reflexes, they could only hold out for so long; eventually, she would make a mistake. Mary-Grace imagined that was what the angels were waiting for.

Dean was fighting off every angel he could, along with his brother. They were back to back, taking one angel on after another. They were exhausted. There was no way they could stop. They had to keep fighting. Dean called out to his brother.

"How you holding up Sammy!?"

Sam grunted, killing yet another angel. "I'm doing just great Dean, how about you?"

"I'm doing just fanfreakingtastic Sammy." Dean said. He was covered in blood, mostly his own, but bleeding out wouldn't be what would kill him.

Mary-Grace had a plan. She would run and lead some of the angels away. But she had to time it right or she and her family would die.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeey you flying @ssholes. Come and get me. I'm really what you want. but if you want me, you have to come and get me." Mary-Grace called out. She was exhausted. utterly exhausted.

Meanwhile Sam and Dean were fighting more angels, and then one had the audacity to swing their blade at him, and it cut his necklace clean off his neck.

Dean didn't have to time to be angry about that. He glanced quickly at his daughter who he saw running.

"What the hell is she doing?"

Samael turned and smiled. "Well would you look at that? The Nephilim is smart after all." and He materialized in front of her, knocking her to the ground, stepping on her chest to keep her in place.

"Well what do we have here? A brave little Nephilim wanting to save her family? How...human of you. But you are not human are you?"

MG grunted, trying to pull his foot off, but he laughed and only dug his heel harder onto her chest, digging right into her lungs. She struggled for air.

"Papa...! Dad...!" She gasped out, her arms flailing around and then suddenly she felt the pressure come off her chest. She sat up and saw Jess fighting Samael.

The Winchester family were surrounded. Both girls clung to their parents. Both couples embraced each other for the last time it seemed, and both sets of brothers hugged their sibling one more time. Samael was getting restless.

Dean stood in front of his Husband, Sam stood in front of his and Mary Grace stood in front of Jess, and Lili, was standing behind them. They were all protecting her.

Samael clicked his tounge. "Get Sam and Dean, and hold the others back. I want them to watch their family die, one by one."

The other angels nodded and grabbed the brothers, both of them struggling. They were kicked to their knees, falling hard. The other five had angel blades to their throat. Samael picked Dean up by his hair, tilting his chin up to make him look up.

"Look at your family boys because this is the last time you will see them."

Later on...

Gabriel can't control his emotions. He's shaking. His hands are shaking, as he looks at the box. He whispers in Sam's ear, even though the younger Winchester brother can not hear.

"Yes...I will marry you."

 A  Few minuets earlier while he was fighting, Sam decided if he was going to "pop" the question, now would be the time.

Sam looked at Gabriel, and felt the box in his pocket. "Gabe...I...I need to tell you something."

"Right now Sammich?"

"Yes right now. It's...it's important."

The both of them fed off angels, one after one after one.

"I have been thinking about it for a while...and I wanted to ask you..."

"Ask me what?"

"Gabriel. I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of my short life so wou-" but he didn't finish. Sam dropped to the ground, the sockets where his once beautiful hazel eyes were, they were now smoking holes.

Gabriel cries out to his beloved moose, cradling him. Dean and Castiel don't have time to mourn, and niether does Jess or Mary Grace as they were all surrounded then killed one by one, but not all at once.

It went like this. Dean and Castiel were back to back, fighting off Angels. Sam was dead, already, Dean didn't know, he would never know. Angel after angel, they killed, until two Angels brought Dean to his knees, grabbing him by his throat, crushing his wind pipe slightly, and then smited Dean in cold blood, while Castiel had been helpless to watch. Castiel had been held back by several angels while Dean was smited.

He cursed and fought and did everything he could, and when he could not fight anymore, he lowered his head, and an angel closest to him took advantage and shoved their blade deep into his chest, causing him to make choking sounds. The other angels had ripped up Dean's shirt so he died without one on. The blade was thrusted deeper into Castiel's chest and twisted. His eyes lit up, and he fell ontop of Dean, his wings imprinting on the dead hunters bare chest.

Mary Grace had just watched her parents die. She choked on tears but kept strong, and she kept fighting, until she saw an angel going towards Jess, she ran in front of the blade, and she felt it go through her back.

"Love...you...Jess..." and then she was gone. Her small wings making a pattern on the ground underneath her. Her cousin let out a scream, which caused her much pain. She dropped to her knees, layed on her back, closed her eyes and never opened them again.

Gabe looked at his blade and raised it to drive it into himself, but a hand stopped him.

"Gabriel, don't." Samael said, his face empty.

"Fuck you Samael. You killed my family. Let me finish the job for you."

Gabriel yanks Samael's hand off his and raises his blade again, tears blurring his vision.

But his hands are shaking and he drops his blade, and he sinks to his knees, sobbing. He couldn't look at Sam, his Beloved Sam, and his daughter, oh his sweet little Jessica...why...

"WHY. WHY DID YOU KILL MY FAMILY!? WHAT DID MY FAMILY DO FOR YOU TO WANT THEM DEAD!?"

Samael motions to his men and it took about ten Angels to subue the mourning Archangel, but they eventually got him, and took him to heaven. Once in heaven, they had him tied in Enochian chains, with them wrapped around his body and his wings several times. Samael walks around, and faces Gabriel.

"Gabriel." He starts. "You are a disgrace to Angel kind. You have mated with a..." he pauses and snarls in disgust. "With a Winchester, of all people. How stupid do you think we are? Did you think we wouldn't find out about your precious daughter and Niece?"

"Oh. I knew. You were just slow at finding out."

"Oh but on the contrary, Gabriel. We knew about them as soon as they began to use their powers."

"Why did you keep me alive. Why me. Why can't you just kill me already?"

"Put him in a cell." Samael ordered. The angels obeyed, taking the fighting, struggling, Archangel with them. They dragged him down the hallway, after knocking him out with a Enochian knockout spell, and they chained him to the wall. Samael put Gabriel's blade on the small table inside the cell, and woke the Angry Archangel who, when he went to charge, was slammed back into the wall.

"If you want to die so badly, then come get your blade."

Gabriel tried and tried and tried and tried. He tried for days. Two months. He tried, until he gave up.

Samael grew bored. "Kill him. Kill him now."

"Brother, your plan was to brainwash him into killing humans who need to be eliminated. If the Winchesters come ba-"

The Angel was cut off. "They won't. Not this time."

"How can you be so sure?"

Samael put a blade to the smart mouthed angel and he growled.

"Because I know they won't."

"But...brother if...they do...what is the plan then? Do we kill them again?"

"If that is what we must do then yes. We will kill them every time they come back."

"We will burn their bodies so that they can't come back." He added.

"Do you want to bring us to bring the bodies to you brother?"

Samael waved him off. "Leave my sight. I must see  
To our brother."

The angel left and Samael returns to Gabriel, who was beyond pissed. His golden eyes had lost their glow.

 Samael went back to earth. He walked over to Dean's body which still was warm from death, when he died over two months ago.

 

The angel decided that he should get a retry. He put a hand on the hunters chest and Dean gasped for air, wondering how the hell he was alive. He tries to get up but the angel pins the hunter down.

 

"ah ah ah. Remember how I said that I was going to enjoy carving your still beating heart out of your chest? Well I didn't get that chance, so I am doing it now."

 

Samael pulled out a blade, and moved the blade slowly across Dean's chest. The hunter did not scream, at least he tried not to.

 

Samael dug the blade deeper into Dean's chest until his chest cavity was exposed and so was his beating heart. Samael looked at the beating muscle in Dean's exposed chest behind his rib cage.

 

 

He laughed. "Time to die again Dean Winchester." And he cut into Dean, breaking his rib cage.

Dean managed to grab the blade out of Samael's hand. He then stuck it into the angel's stomach, but The flying dick only laughed when he held up Dean's still beating heart. Dean gasped for air, realizing he couldn't get any and dropped to the ground.

 

Samael destroyed Dean's heart and stood up, pulling the blade out. He kicked Dean's limp body and he said, announcing to the supernatural world.

 

"The Winchester Family is dead."

 

 

 Or so he thought.

 


	10. Raise a little hell (Alternate ending.)

Samael saw them first, and even from this distance, Mary-Grace saw his steely eyes light up.  
"Look who it is, brothers and sisters,” the angel crooned, “the Winchesters have finally come out to play."  
"Can it, you son of a bitch," Dean snapped. Samael shook his head incredulously.  
“Even in the face of failure, you’re still insufferable. I’ll take great pleasure in removing your still-beating heart from your chest.”  
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Dean shot back, green eyes narrowing in silent challenge. Samael laughed.

“I don’t intend to...” he paused, looking along the lines of Winchesters and their angels.  
“Where is sweet Jessica?” He wondered aloud. “I don’t see her here. As I recall, she slaughtered Berechiel... I imagine many of my brothers and sisters would like to take their revenge.”  
“It’s none of your damn business where Jessica is,” Sam said before Dean could open his mouth. Samael’s mouth quirked.

“I see. Well, let’s not waste any more time squabbling.” In the blink of an eye, Samael was directly in front of Dean. Mary-Grace’s father jerked backwards as the angel swung his blade out in front of him, narrowly missing Dean’s chest.  
And with that, all hell broke loose.  
The angels descended on the Winchesters in a wave; some walked, some ran, and others simply materialized in front of their targets. Mary-Grace found herself quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of angels around her-- there had to be at least fifty in total.

She saw a blade aimed at her out of the corner of her eye and stepped backwards, the edge of the blade catching on her sleeve and ripping across her arm. Mary-Grace hissed in pain, dropping to the ground and rolling until she’d escaped the throng of angels. Her parents and uncles weren’t doing much better-- although Castiel and Gabriel were managing, Sam and Dean were back-to-back, fending off two or three angels at a time. Mary-Grace touched her arm, and her hand came away bloody. She cursed and stood, brandishing her angel blade and diving into the fray again.

She landed on an angel’s back, tackling him to the ground. Mary-Grace plunged her blade into his back, and used her momentum to tumble forwards, yanking the blade out again and swinging it at another angel. This one, a woman, shrieked in pain as Mary-Grace’s angel blade slashed her thigh. She lashed out with her fists, catching Mary-Grace in the jaw. The Nephilim flew backwards, head snapping to one side. She blinked, seeing stars briefly, and her back bumped against someone else.

“You alright there, MG?” Gabriel asked, squeezing her hand as he smote angel after angel, a grimace plastered permanently across his face. Mary-Grace nodded breathlessly.  
“Good. Keep your head up; only...” Gabriel squinted. “Thirty-seven to go.”  
An adrenaline-fueled laugh bubbled up into Mary-Grace’s throat, and she nodded again, only just dodging a blade aimed at her heart. Though she had decent reflexes, they could only hold out for so long; eventually, she would make a mistake. Mary-Grace imagined that was what the angels were waiting for.

Dean was fighting off every angel he could, along with his brother. They were back to back, taking one angel on after another. They were exhausted. There was no way they could stop. They had to keep fighting. Dean called out to his brother.

"How you holding up Sammy!?"

Sam grunted, killing yet another angel. "I'm doing just great Dean, how about you?"

"I'm doing just fanfreakingtastic Sammy." Dean said. He was covered in blood, mostly his own, but bleeding out wouldn't be what would kill him.

Mary-Grace had a plan. She would run and lead some of the angels away. But she had to time it right or she and her family would die.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeey you flying @ssholes. Come and get me. I'm really what you want. but if you want me, you have to come and get me." Mary-Grace called out. She was exhausted. utterly exhausted.

Meanwhile Sam and Dean were fighting more angels, and then one had the audacity to swing their blade at him, and it cut his necklace clean off his neck.

Dean didn't have to time to be angry about that. He glanced quickly at his daughter who he saw running.

"What the hell is she doing?"

Samael turned and smiled. "Well would you look at that? The Nephilim is smart after all." and He materialized in front of her, knocking her to the ground, stepping on her chest to keep her in place.

"Well what do we have here? A brave little Nephilim wanting to save her family? How...human of you. But you are not human are you?"

MG grunted, trying to pull his foot off, but he laughed and only dug his heel harder onto her chest, digging right into her lungs. She struggled for air.

"Papa...! Dad...!" She gasped out, her arms flailing around and then suddenly she felt the pressure come off her chest. She sat up and saw Jess fighting Samael.

The Winchester family were surrounded. Both girls clung to their parents. Both couples embraced each other for the last time it seemed, and both sets of brothers hugged their sibling one more time. Samael was getting restless.

 

This was getting tiring. They were fighting and getting nowhere. That’s when it happened. Suddenly Angels started dropping like flies.

 

It was Jess. She was using her powers. Mary Grace was helping. Both were powerful enough. Light shone from their eyes. When it was gone, they were both on the ground.

 

They had won.

**Author's Note:**

> The girls were made through grace and DNA. It is NOT Mpreg.


End file.
